Temari's Test
by rachellephant
Summary: Temari didn't like the idea of a date with him, that lazy bastard. It was only fitting then, that she should design a test for him to pass. A test devised to make him fail, and fail at all costs.
1. Prologue: The Plan

_Oh my gosh! Panda is back & writing :D Haha I'm so psyched to be home, guys, it's great. Anyways, this was an idea I came up with a long time ago. I'm trying to pick it back up again, now, after all this time--hope you enjoy!_

**Prologue: The Plan**

* * *

"Princes Piggy, coming in. Kchtt."

Kankuro rolled his eyes as the walkie-talkie in his palm beeped repetitively. The voice issuing out of it was one he wouldn't have ever wanted to hear in his life, and if it wasn't for the sake of his beloved sister, he would have ditched the mission days ago.

"Do we have to use the code names?" he begged of the small device.

"Yes. Kchtt."

Kankuro squinted at the thing, tilting it left and right until he found the "off" button. He pressed it and heard the rippling static emitting from the contraption cease abruptly.

He heard the voice again, this time slightly frantic: "Puppet Master? Kchtt. Come in, Puppet Master, this is Princess Piggy—"

Kankuro let out an exasperated breath and looked at the back of the crouching young woman in front of him.

"Oi," he said, fighting to control his patience, "I'm right behind you."

"Oh." Ino turned around and faced away from the bushes that had previously been her hiding place, her ponytail swaying faintly in the wind. "Hey."

Kankuro sighed, irritated, and tugged on the hems of his black hat. "Now let's ditch the toys"—he held his walkie-talkie up by the antenna—"and get on with discussing the mission."

* * *

The key clicked, successfully unlocking the door to the small townhouse that Temari hadn't set foot in for months. She opened the door slowly.

Small particles of dust lifted off the floor. The couch was completely still, as was the coffee table in between it and the tiny television set. The mini-kitchen was set off to the side, but healthily connected to the living room. Everything was completely untouched and undisturbed, exactly as she had left it.

Temari stepped into her second house and took a deep breath.

"I'm home," she said to the emptiness.

And, indeed, though this place had been sort of a hotel for her in the past, for the next few months she'd be living in it like it _was_ her home. Temari became homesick for Suna often, but under Gaara's orders, she was forced to accept that the closer she was connected with Konoha and its citizens, the closer the relationship between it and Suna would remain in the long run.

Temari set her suitcase down and proceeded to open every window and door in the small home. Once she had done that she positioned herself a few feet away from the front door and opened her fan gently.

Focusing her chakra to the tips of her fingers for delicate wind, Temari spun on the spot. On the downward arch of her spin, she swung her fan with grace. Wind echoed through the entire house, blowing up every particle of grime in the place. When the wind had cooled down and escaped through the open windows, carrying the dust along with it, Temari closed her fan and set it on the coffee table, smiling in a victorious way at her now very dust-free countertops and couch cushions.

But as she bent over to retrieve her suitcase from where she had set it on the floor, she heard a small noise.

A cough.

She tensed.

There it was again.

"Ahem. Ach."

Temari straightened up and turned around. A man stood in her still open doorway, almost entirely covered with dust. He was taller since the last time she'd seen him, but when he finished rubbing his eyes to clear them of dirt, they opened and his face resumed the bored, flat expression she had become so accustomed to seeing during her stays in the Leaf Village. In one arm, he held what looked like a gift basket.

"What are you _doing_?" he asked, frowning at her. "We don't set traps in our ambassador's houses, you know." Under his breath, he muttered, "troublesome woman."

Temari smirked slightly at the familiar nickname. "Just a bit of spring cleaning," she said airily. "It's been a while since I've seen you, Nara. Still a crybaby?"

Shikamaru rolled his neck back, cracking it once. Temari recognized his boredom, and smiled wider. She bothered with the jibe merely because she enjoyed that it annoyed him, and she had a feeling he knew that.

He held out the basket boredly. It was tied with a sheer purple ribbon, and inside had an assortment of chocolates and other candies.

"From Tsunade. She appreciates that you're _'honoring Konoha with your presence'_ for the next few months." He heaved a sigh, as though this was more trouble than it was worth. Which, to him, it probably was.

Temari took the package from him. "You'll have to give her my thanks."

Shikamaru shrugged, still looking quite ridiculous with dust clinging to his Chuunin vest. He must have seen Temari glance at it, because he shrugged once more and said, "Dust is such a pain. Hope you enjoy the chocolate," he added, not sounding at all like he actually hoped she would.

With that, he turned on his heel to leave. Leaning against the door frame, Temari watched him go. His posture slouched and his ponytail bobbed gently, as usual, but this didn't bother her. Shikamaru was one of the only familiar things in Konoha, and he usually made her feel much more secure in this foreign village.

It was only when he was completely out of sight that she shut the door, set the gift basket on the kitchen counter, and began to make herself at home.

* * *

"You know what to do, right?"

Kankuro was about to pull his hair out. They'd gone over the plan twelve times already, and counting.

"_Yes_, I know what to do," he replied, feeling infuriated. "Do _you_?"

Ino stared at him from beneath the lock of blonde hair that partially sheltered her face. "Of _course_ I know what to do. I'm just trying to make sure _you_ won't forget it."

Kankuro bared his teeth, infuriated. "Just—come _on_. Forget it. Can we get this over with? Now?"

Ino twitched angrily. "Well, I've been waiting for you to tell me you were ready—are you _sure_ you can trick her?"

"Oh, my God," muttered Kankuro, his eyes rolling upward until they could go no farther. "Believe me. I have a pretty decent poker face."

"It's not like anyone can see your face anyways, with all that… _stuff_." Ino made a mad swiping gesture around her own face to indicate Kankuro's makeup. Then she added persistently, "But she _is_ your sister."

Affronted at her gibe towards his makeup, Kankuro replied sharply, "It _doesn't_ matter."

"Okay. But keep this with you"—he watched with horror as she held up the walkie-talkie and caved her eyebrows downward pleadingly—"just in case I need to get in touch with you to make sure everything goes smoothly. Okay?"

Groaning, Kankuro took the vile thing that he had so loathed the last couple of days.

Ino grinned. "Excellent," she said triumphantly, "Let's move out."

* * *

_Updates will be issued along with plentiful reviews :) Snuggle, critique, flame, praise--send it my wayy._

_Haha. It really is great to be back._


	2. Chap I: The Test

_Alright. I've got most of the chapters written, so I think I'll be updating them about every Saturday. Check my LiveJournal (link is on my profile) for my update calendar. Also, I'm trying to find little poems or quotes and things that go along with the chapter, heheh. So those will be present from now on.(:_

_Anyways. Hope you all enjoy._

**Chap. I: The Test**

* * *

"Indeed, indeed, I cannot tell,  
though I ponder on it well,  
which were easier to state,  
all my love or all my hate.  
Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me  
when I say thou dost disgust me.  
O, I hate thee with a hate  
that would fain annihilate;  
yet sometimes against my will,  
my dear friend, I love thee still.  
It were treason to our love,  
and a sin to God above,  
one iota to abate  
of a pure impartial hate."

– Henry Thoreau

* * *

It never took Temari too long to unpack. She was expedient at that kind of thing by now, what with having to travel to different villages so often. Within an hour, she was all settled in.

She was just sitting herself down on the table for a quick snack when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the gift basket. Could Shikamaru be back? Was he to take her to see the Hokage already?

Without even waiting for her to open the door, whoever was knocking creaked it open and peeked in, revealing a familiar, sheepish looking face.

Temari blinked twice, confused. "Kankuro? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Suna with Gaara?"

Kankuro stepped fully into her house, completely dressed, puppet and all. She stood and walked toward him, embracing him once before stepping back and resting in a position that meant she wanted answers.

"Hey," he said, smiling half-heartedly through his makeup. Temari watched him quizzically. "Er, Gaara wanted me to come down and stay with you. He thought it would be best if I, uh, got to know this village also."

Kankuro looked down and away from her eyes humbly. She settled her hands on her hips. This was only Temari's third or visit to the village—it wasn't like she'd been the ambassador for long. This visit was one of her main ones, Gaara said, because (as the ambassador) she had to get to know the village. Apparently, Gaara had decided Kankuro needed to also—for some reason unknown to Temari. But it wasn't like she really minded her brother around anyway.

"If it's what Gaara wants," Temari shrugged in agreement. "You're sleeping on the couch though."

Relieved, Kankuro unwound the puppets from his back and set them gently on the floor.

"So has anyone else come to visit you yet?" he asked, settling himself on the arm of the couch.

"Nope." Temari thought for a moment as she sat back in her chair. "Oh, Shikamaru came by and dropped off that gift basket on the counter."

Chuckling, Kankuro crossed his arms over his chest.

Temari turned to face her eldest younger brother. "What was that giggle for?" she asked, her brows furrowing.

"Oh, nothing," Kankuro snickered. "It just seems like the crybaby's got a bit of a thing for you, Temari."

Temari instantly stiffened. "It's not like _that_, stupid—"

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Kankuro impatiently, smirking. "He wants to take you to dinner tomorrow night. I caught him on the way here and he mentioned a restaurant a little south of this place."

Temari froze, and then shook her head. "You're lying."

"Nope." His smirk grew wider. "What do you say?"

Temari shook her head, now narrowing her eyes at Kankuro as though Shikamaru's sudden fancy towards her was _his_ fault. "No. Never. Not in a million years. We work together. That would be so strange."

"Oh come _on_. He's not bad. He brought you a gift basket," Kankuro pointed out fairly.

"That wasn't even from him to begin with!"

Kankuro made a pouty face that mocked her. "If you say no, you'll break his heart."

Temari was momentarily revolted.

"Seriously, Temari," Kankuro supplicated, dropping the act. "Just this once. What have you got to lose?"

Temari sat rigid in her chair. Was this for real? Now that she thought about it, she did get on reasonably well with Shikamaru. And really, what _did_ she have to lose? Nothing. No. Certainly not.

"Alright, fine," she snapped, "I'll do it. But only on one condition."

"And what would that be?" Kankuro asked eagerly.

"I'll make a test for him to pass," she smiled, pausing to praise herself on the idea, "and if he passes it on our date, I'll continue to see him regularly as more than business partners."

Kankuro groaned. "And what if he fails?"

"If he fails… I'll break his heart."

* * *

"Shikamaruuuu!"

Shikamaru rolled over on the grass, clamping his hands over his ears as he heard dainty footsteps carry themselves up his hill to the top where he had been napping so peacefully in the grass. Ino peeked over his shoulder and smiled ravishingly at him.

"Have I ever told you how _attractive_ girls find you?" she said, batting her eye lashes and kneeling next to him. He turned farther away, annoyed at being woken up.

"I'm busy, Ino," he said sternly, "If you want money, go talk to Chouji."

"He doesn't have any," Ino pouted, "But that's not why I came to talk to you. At least not today. I've got something very important to tell you."

"Leave me alone." He rested his head back down in his hands and lay down on the grass. His last vision before he closed his eyes to nap again was Ino staring down at him with a frown curving her mouth.

"But this could change your life!" Ino exclaimed. "It is completely essential to your future!"

Shikamaru doubted that it was.

"What," he asked without opening his eyes, "could be so critical that you had to wake me up and tell me right away?"

Pause.

"Temari wants to go to dinner with you tomorrow night."

Both eyes shot open, all intentions of napping forgotten.

"What did you say?"

"Temari-wants-to-go-to-dinner-with-you-tomorrow-night!" Ino recited at top speed, her eyes gleaming. "Wonderful, isn't it?"

Shikamaru, though still remotely startled, shrugged. "A bit out of character for her, isn't it?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Ino bit her bottom lip. Shikamaru recognized hesitance in her features. She was worried about Shikamaru refusing Temari? What for? He never thought she and any of the Sand got along particularly well together anyways.

Then suddenly, her expression changed from worry to fierce determination. Shikamaru practically smelled the danger.

"Shikamaru," said Ino, her voice rippling with warning. "If you do not go on this date with Temari, I will make your life a living hell."

Shikamaru saw past her pretense, but shrugged again. "How troublesome," he mentioned, "but if you'll go away and let me sleep, I guess I'll do it."

Ino beamed in victory.

* * *

Temari clicked her tongue. "Alright," she said decisively, "Number one…"

"He has to act like himself?" suggested Kankuro hopefully.

"No…" Temari flashed a smile, putting her pencil delicately to the paper. "He has to be on time."

Kankuro moaned, rubbing his temples.

"Number two," Temari thought, chewing the pencil eraser. "He has to look decent." She scribbled it down under the first entry, pleased. It wasn't every day you got to make up a test for the perfect date, and she was enjoying herself doing it.

Kankuro put his head in his hands. Temari knew that Shikamaru would never be able to pass this test. And she knew that Kankuro was thinking this as well.

"Number three… He should be a gentleman."

Kankuro looked up. "Number four?" he dared ask.

"He should be interested in me."

Kankuro frowned. "Temari…" he whined.

Temari silenced him by holding her finger up to her lips and making a swift shushing noise. He wasn't going to interrupt her now. She was on a roll. "Number five: He's got to make interesting conversation. Number six… Number six… I wonder if he's the jealous type?"

Kankuro gave another gasp of vexation as Temari added these to the list.

"Commitment, I wonder if he's up for commitment… That will be number seven. And trustworthiness, number eight." She tapped the pencil lazily against her forehead, thinking… "Oh, he must pay the bill."

She glanced at Kankuro out of the corner of her sharp eyes. He had rested his head back against the couch cushion and had his eyes closed, focusing on controlling his frustration.

"Number ten. What should number ten be, Kankuro?"

"Something he could actually pass, probably."

Temari privately disagreed. Out loud she decided,

"It would be very nice if he walked me home."

Kankuro sighed deeply. "Can I see it? The list?"

When Temari had handed it to him, he opened his eyes. Temari watched him read it in silence, already having memorized what was on the page.

Sighing again, this time less with aggravation and more with pity for Shikamaru, Kankuro handed the list back to Temari. She looked over it one more time, proudly. At the top, it was titled "Temari's Test" and underneath was a list of ten questions:

_1. Is he on time?  
__2. Is he dressed nicely?  
__3. Does he act like a gentleman?  
__4. Does he seem interested in me?  
__5. Does he make entertaining conversation?  
__6. Is he the jealous type?  
__7. Is he scared of commitment?  
__8. Is he trustworthy?  
__9. Does he offer to pay the bill?  
__10. Will he walk me home?_

Thoroughly satisfied, Temari folded up the list and tucked it inside the band that was tied around her waist. Shikamaru wouldn't stand a chance.

* * *

_Aight, end Chapter One. Um, the next chapter is the actual date. It's longer, too (really long for me, ahah) though my chapter lengths will vary from chapter to chapter. Again, check my LiveJournal for updates._

_Leave me love :D_

_P.S. If you care, I started a forum. Go overrun it with Shika/Tema love, yeah? :D_


	3. Chap II: The Date

_Um, big long chapter here. Haha._

**Chap. II: The Date**

* * *

"Attraction is not a choice."

– David DeAngelo

* * *

The day had been simply troublesome.

First, he had awoken to find Ino glaring at him through the crack in the door way. She claimed to have been waiting for him to awaken so that she could "educate him on the proper date behavior" before he "went out there and made a fool of himself" in front of the "woman of his dreams".

"She's not the woman of my dreams," Shikamaru had corrected her.

Ino looked at him gravely. "Trust me," she said simply, and Shikamaru had a very bad feeling about that.

After dragging him out of bed, Ino had strapped him to a chair with a morning bowl of oatmeal and pulled up a white board in front of him. He sat in wordless silence as she drew different pictures in different colored markers and pointed to them to show what they meant and how they affected him.

"Look," she said, pointing with a kunai to a minute stick figure with four pony-tails in front of a house, drawn all in purple marker. "Here _she_ is, and here is the _restaurant_." Ino then drew his attention to a little shack drawn in blue. "You are going to pick her up at eight o'clock sharp, got it? And then, once the date is over"—Ino pointed back at the stick figure and the house—"You will walk her back home. Understand?"

Shikamaru made no answer. He simply fished through his oatmeal with the spoon for the thousandth time and rolled his eyes up toward the window, wondering why the clouds always looked better on days he was held in captivity.

"Now," Ino said defiantly, holding her kunai at eye level. "Time for behavior lessons."

"Behavior lessons." repeated Shikamaru.

Ino ignored him. "Now to make this date go well, you just… Be yourself, alright?" Shikamaru shot her a look, as if to ask, _Are you kidding me?_

"You know what I mean," snapped Ino. "And whatever you do, _do not fall asleep_."

"What a pain in the neck," Shikamaru moaned, but Ino continued as though she hadn't heard a word.

"Talk to her. Engage her in conversation. Be charming, romantic, and witty if possible. You're smart; talk about something impressive. Also, it wouldn't be a bad idea to show her how interested you are in her."

"I'm not interested in her."

Ino towered over him. "Yes," she replied, "you are."

Shikamaru's mouth thinned into a bored line. "Right," he said sarcastically, "how on earth could I have forgotten my unconditional love for the woman who threatens to beat me with her fan on a regular basis?"

"That's the spirit." Ino shot him a thumbs up and tapped the kunai back on the board, where he saw that she had now drawn a slouched Shikamaru and a Shikamaru with correct posture with a circle around it.

* * *

It had been a good while since Temari went on a date. The restaurant was a small place that looked cozy enough—she had stopped by the place to check it out earlier that morning.

As for her concerns on what she would wear, Temari decided on a close fitting, deep purple, sleeveless dress. It didn't come down too low, and it wasn't too shiny, but, as Temari admired herself in the mirror later, damn, did it look good.

Now all was left was Shikamaru coming to pick her up.

And, of course, the slacker didn't seem to be moving fast enough. Temari was told that he would be picking her up at eight. It was seven-till, and unless he was just around the corner, he was definitely failing number one.

That didn't look like a promising start to their future together. Temari smiled happily at the thought.

Just to refresh her memory, Temari withdrew the list and a pencil from her purse secretively. She tapped the pencil on her cheek pensively, wondering if there was another question she could add to the test… she turned around and pressed the paper to the door so she had a hard surface to write on as she thought of one.

"Temari?"

Temari fumbled a little bit with her notepad and pencil. She almost dropped it, but quickly handled the situation with her quick reflexes and shoved the materials back in her purse. Then she spun around and faced the intruder.

"Nara?" she asked and peered at him incredulously. _Damn!_ she internally cursed. Had he seen the list? Had he read what was on it?

Shikamaru cocked an eyebrow. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" Temari asked crossly. What was he thinking, interrupting her in the middle of such a brilliant streak of inspiration? And in the confusion she had lost her train of thought!

"I'm here to pick you up for…" Shikamaru cleared his throat. "For our date."

Flushing, Temari muttered. "Oh. Right. Let's go, then."

Shikamaru shrugged. "If you insist."

They walked in near total silence for a few moments, past shops and homes and streets that she didn't know existed. They passed Ichiraku's, and for a moment she saw the familiar orange-clad ninja sitting inside, slurping down ramen.

"What were you writing down?" Shikamaru asked nonchalantly, as though it didn't matter (which, to him, it probably didn't). "I'm on time," he added as an afterthought.

"That's a first," she retorted. Inside, Temari was shaking. Damn, damn, damn! He _did_ see! Now she wouldn't know whether he was just completing the test or if he was actually passing it.

Well, she thought miserably, she would just have to go with it.

* * *

They reached the restaurant sooner than she had expected. It was on the smaller side, but pleasant and upscale. Two elegant paper lanterns hung on either side of the doorway. Temari waited for Shikamaru to approach the door first, and when he did, he pushed through it and disappeared. Fuming silently that he didn't open it for her as well, she followed.

Shikamaru was talking to a young man behind a small counter. "Two, please," he said, and the man stepped from behind the counter, holding a couple of menus and smiling as he saw Temari. She blinked.

When they approached their table, Shikamaru pulled out his own chair and sat into it, resting his elbows on the arm rests. The man handed a menu to Shikamaru and then turned to Temari.

"…and one for the pretty lady," he said, winking. She laughed in return, but when she looked down at Shikamaru, she realized he hadn't paid the man the least bit of attention, and the fact that a different man was showing interest—however slight—in _his_ date didn't seem to spike any annoyance. Temari frowned, and the man went away with a polite, "Your waitress will be here in a moment."

A few moments passed and Temari remained standing just behind the chair she was expecting Shikamaru to pull out for her. But when Shikamaru gazed at her and asked, "Are you going to sit down or what?" she realized that it was in vain.

No sooner had Temari seated herself than a waitress appeared, flicking a notepad out of her skirt pocket and extracting a pencil from behind her ear.

"What can I get for you two this evening?" she asked, smiling pleasantly. Temari noticed that she was uncommonly pretty. Temari wasn't the kind of girl to feel self-conscious, but she didn't much like the way that the girl was looking at Shikamaru. Or was she imagining things?

Wait, she wasn't even supposed to care. That's right. She didn't care.

Shikamaru muttered his order without even looking at the waitress. Smugness swelled inside Temari, but she too requested her meal. The waitress went away looking less chipper than before.

The pair was silent for a moment, and then Temari spoke.

"So, Nara…"

He looked up at her. His gaze was underestimating and intimidating—but worse, she was under the impression that he could see right through her.

"Um," Temari stuttered, feeling stupider by the second. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Good, good… How's the family?"

"Healthy," he grunted, blinking at her.

"Ah, that's good… How was your day?"

"Troublesome," said Shikamaru honestly.

"Oh come on, say something at least a _little_ interesting," she snapped.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, resting his hands on the table and folding his fingers together.

"I asked how your day was," she said through gritted teeth.

"Not fun," he said simply.

"What's not fun about it?" she demanded.

"It's just been boring," he replied. Temari was slightly taken aback—did he think _she_ was boring?

She waited for him to say more, but he had apparently lost interest and yawned. Furious, Temari almost reached behind her to whip out her fan and teach him a lesson—then she realized that she didn't happen to have it with her.

God, she thought angrily, what a stupid situation.

As Shikamaru fiddled with his napkin, Temari studied him carefully. He wasn't wearing something super fancy, but he had a nice collared shirt on and decent slacks. His shoes looked cheap but well taken care of, and if it wasn't for Temari's sharp eye, they could have passed as something expensive.

"You look nice," she stated. She wasn't quite sure what made her say it, but she waited for him to reply.

He merely looked up at her and nodded. "Thanks."

Temari's anger instantly flooded back to her as she realized he wasn't going to return the compliment. She longed for her fan again.

The waitress suddenly came back, two waters on one tray and two plates of food in the other.

"Your drinks," she said.

She set the waters down and shot Shikamaru a captivating smile. Temari ground her teeth together. If he paid attention to _her_ when he wasn't even paying attention to his _date_—Temari would beat the stuffing out of him. And that was a promise.

"And here is your food." The waitress placed each plate gently in front of the pair. She sent another smile at the male of the two, but Shikamaru barely blinked at her.

"Thanks," he muttered, picking up his chopsticks. Temari watched the waitress walk away with increasing vindication.

She too picked up her chopsticks, and looked down at her meal, pleasantly surprised that it looked delicious. "Itadakemasu," she mumbled, and began to eat.

On the other side of the table, Shikamaru was rolling a piece of his meal around his plate with the tip of his chopsticks. "I forgot I don't like boiled eggs," he said sourly, watching the piece of egg as though it had personally insulted him.

Temari swallowed hard. "Are you going to order something different?"

Shikamaru raised his eyebrows, as though the answer was painfully obvious. "No. Too troublesome."

_Oh,_ thought Temari dryly, _Right. Of course_.

Temari continued eating and began to look around. The walls were adorned with traditional Japanese paintings, all very beautiful. Paper lanterns that mimicked the ones outside of the restaurant hung over each table, and, looking up, Temari observed that theirs was blue.

There were quite a few other couples around, she noticed. The nearest to them was of a young girl and boy that looked no older than themselves. They laughed, ate and talked together—it was like they noticed no one else in the room.

Temari watched them for a moment, slowly smiling inadvertently. It was quite adorable.

"What's that grin for?"

Temari turned away from the pair; she hadn't realized Shikamaru had been watching her.

"Oh, nothing," Temari blushed, caught off guard at being happy on the night she was so determined to make a failure. "It's just…" she glanced at the couple again. "They look so happy."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes when he glanced over. "I dunno. Everything they're doing looks kind of forced to me."

It was Temari's turn to roll her eyes. "How the hell is it forced looking?" she demanded.

Shikamaru shrugged. "I don't know."

Temari frowned at him. "Just 'cause they're more committed to making their date successful than _you_ are, does not mean that everything they're doing is _forced_," she snapped, diving back into her food and taking a large, angry bite.

Shikamaru muttered something that sounded conspicuously like "how troublesome." He resumed playing with his food, occasionally eating a few things that didn't have the dreaded boiled egg on them.

Temari ate in silence, stabbing things on her plates as a vent for her aggravation. For a genius, Shikamaru sure didn't know anything. About anyone. Least of all, her.

"Temari?"

Startled, she choked on her food. When she had regained her breath, she coughed out, "What?"

Her brain was whizzing in her skull. Was he about to ask her something? Was he actually showing interest in her? Perhaps she had judged him too soon—

Both eyebrows raised, Shikamaru stared at her. She tried to stare back just as intensely.

"Oh…" he muttered, "Never mind."

"Oh, my God," she cried, standing up suddenly. Her chair pushed back with a screech on the tile floor. "Is that all? You're not going to ask me how I'm doing or if I'm having a good time or if I like the food or _anything_? What kind of date _are_ you?"

Shikamaru's eyes widened considerably. He stared at Temari like she was insane—and he wasn't the only one. A few other customers looked thoroughly alarmed as well.

Temari, sitting down quickly, collected herself by taking a large gulp of water at that moment. She breathed deeply and set her glass down very carefully as the people around her went back to their meals. Unbeknownst to them, she was livid.

"Well," grunted Shikamaru after an awkward moment, "I'm done. You finished?"

Temari, a little taken by surprise but not at all displeased to be leaving, pushed her back from her, even though she was nowhere near to being done. She had been so focused on arguing with him that she hadn't had much time to eat… or enjoy herself. She wondered if he had cut the date short intentionally to get out of there as fast as possible—it's what she would have done, had she thought of it.

Right on cue, it seemed, the waitress appeared with the bill. Temari wondered for a moment of brief insanity if she had been watching them the whole time.

Shikamaru pulled out his wallet and shuffled through it, eventually extracting some money and tossing it onto the table.

Temari stared at him expectantly. She and Shikamaru both knew that wasn't enough for the two of the meals. The waitress coughed quietly.

Shikamaru stared blandly at her for a moment before his eyebrows rose and his mouth opened slightly in an inaudible gasp.

"Oh, shoot," he muttered, shifting through his wallet again, and pulled out a bit more money. "Temari—I only brought enough money for me—"

He stuffed his now empty wallet back in his pocket shamefully. "Would you mind paying the rest?"

Temari smirked. She thought about demanding the money out of him and causing a scene, but then thought better of it. From her own purse she withdrew the remaining amount of money and handed it to the waitress.

Shikamaru sighed with relief. "Thanks. I'll pay you back."

"Its fine," Temari said waving her hand through the air as though the matter meant nothing. She wasn't sure that it actually _was_ fine, nor why she had even said that, but it didn't really matter.

The two left the restaurant and immediately set off for Temari's house. The walk was completely silent. Temari kept shooting glances at him out of the side of her eye, just to see if he was finding this awkward or cumbersome. So far, he looked the same as ever. Bored and uninterested.

Which brought Temari's thoughts back to the date and the test. Naturally she'd have to analyze Shikamaru's results right when she got into the house, since she couldn't possibly pull out the list right here—and then she'd tell him tomorrow. Yes. First thing, right when she saw him. It would be over before he knew it.

_Unless_, she thought with dread, _he actually passed_.

Absurd, she assured herself. How ridiculous. There was no way he could have passed—not even if the divine intervened.

Finally, after a long, silent stroll, they reached her house. Temari put her hand on the door knob, but didn't turn it. Instead, she turned around and looked Shikamaru squarely in the face.

"Thank you for tonight. I had a great time," she lied.

Raising his eyebrows skeptically as though he didn't quite believe her (which she knew he didn't), Shikamaru merely nodded in reply.

"Goodnight," he said.

A cool breeze ruffled the through the street. Temari's dress fluttered at her knees and Shikamaru's ponytail bobbed gently. His gaze was quizzical, but not scrutinizing, and Temari felt as though he was trying to decipher something hidden in her eyes. His own shined very softly, like polished obsidian, and Temari felt an awkward pull to speak, to say anything, just for the sake of speaking. They watched each other for another moment before Temari turned away and disappeared inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she breathed out deeply and leaned against it. It was pitch black in the house, and she wondered if Kankuro had gone to bed—but then suddenly, the lights flickered on.

Temari blinked, adjusting her eyes. When she could see again, Kankuro was sitting on the couch, fully dressed and looking passively at her.

"Well?" he asked uncertainly. "How did he do?"

* * *

_End of chapter dos. Review. (:_


	4. Chap III: The Results

_Okay, here's chapter three, a day late. Sue me._

**Chap. III: The Results**

* * *

"Until Sunday I'll be waiting for an answer  
I guess that yesturday's not good enough for you."

"You're way too deep to swim  
Back up again  
But somehow I can't find  
The moment you said goodbye."

– Excerpts from _I Hate This Song_ by Secondhand Serenade

* * *

She sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing her eyes tiredly. When Kankuro continued to watch her, Temari pulled out the pencil and paper from her notepad and read it reluctantly.

_1. Is he on time?_

Yes, thought Temari sardonically, he was definitely on time.

She wrote a tiny _Pass_ next to the number one.

_2. Is he dressed nicely?_

Temari closed her eyes and envisioned Shikamaru's outfit. She could see the clean collared shirt as it rested idly on his shoulders. She copied the previous answer next to the number two.

_3. Does he act like a gentleman?_

She thought back. He hadn't held out the door for her, and he hadn't pulled out her chair for her to sit in. He also wasn't very polite the entire date.

This time she wrote the word _Fail_.

_4. Does he seem interested in me?_

_5. Does he make entertaining conversation?_

These two also earned a _Fail_. He had barely talked to her the whole night, and when he had, it hadn't been anything like she had hoped for.

_6. Is he the jealous type?_

When the man with the menus had started showing a bit of interest in Temari, Shikamaru hadn't looked up once. He hadn't noticed, and if had, he didn't care. Temari took this to mean that he wasn't the jealous type.

Confused, Temari stopped. Was that a pass or fail?

She decided that her perfect man would show a little jealousy and be afraid to lose her, but not so overly jealous that he socked the other man in the face. Since Shikamaru fit into neither of these categories, she decided on failure.

_7. Is he scared of commitment?_

Temari had once read something somewhere that if a man responded with negativity towards another couple's commitment level, then he was secretly insecure about commitment himself. Given the way he responded to the couple's actions in the restaurant, Temari settled on another _Fail_.

_8. Is he trustworthy?_

Bitterly, Temari remembered the waitress. Shikamaru hadn't blinked an eye at her, though she was definitely pretty—did that mean he was trustworthy?

Not necessarily, Temari thought. But Shikamaru had never stopped to gawk at passing girls before. And Temari had so far trusted him with her few visits to Konoha.

And_ Pass_ was written.

_9. Does he offer to pay the bill?_

Temari smiled at this. He hadn't even _thought_ about paying the bill before hand. And he was supposed to be intelligent!

_Fail._

_10. Will he walk me home?_

She stopped again. He had walked her home. She thought for sure he'd fail this one. But she couldn't say she wasn't slightly flattered by this. He hadn't complained once on the way either, which was nice. And at the last moment, when he had watched her so intently—it was the only part of the night she had felt a connection.

Slowly, thoughtfully, she wrote the small word next to number ten: _Pass._

"Well?" Kankuro asked impatiently, waking her from her thoughts. "What happened?"

"Kankuro," Temari responded slowly, looking up and away from the test designed to ruin her date. "Kankuro, he failed. Shikamaru failed."

* * *

Shikamaru opened the door to his own house slowly and slipped inside. There was dim moonlight casting through the window, tinting everything in the hallway with a deep, blue-ish color.

He leaned against the door and breathed out. Tonight had certainly not gone as planned.

Beforehand, he did have some theory that Temari wasn't going to make this easy on him. Of course she would set up a test for him to pass. Of _course_. That was simply the kind of challenging, troublesome person she was.

Shikamaru hung his coat on the hook by the door and removed his shoes, setting them beside his mother's dainty ones and his father's larger ones. He stuffed his hands in his pockets—one closed around his empty wallet—and took off down the hall.

It was only about nine. Shikamaru figured his mother and father had gone to sleep early on purpose, and he didn't mind. It was better than being bombarded with questions upon reentering the house. He was silently grateful.

As he opened his room and stepped inside, Shikamaru noticed that the moonlight was fluttering through his own window as well, making carved strands of light on his carpet. He went to the window and opened the blinds completely so that the entire room was flooded with the beautiful light.

It had only been fifteen minutes ago that Shikamaru had been standing outside Temari's house dropping her off. Ino had mentioned something about the proper way of dropping a girl off from the first date… was he supposed to kiss her at the end of the night? Was that what Ino had said? He couldn't remember.

Shikamaru sat on his bed, looking around at his very plain living quarters. There wasn't much to his room, save for a dresser, a desk, his bed, and some pictures in frames lying about. Clothes littered the floor and ninja gear was splashed across the desk, but it was home.

_What will happen,_ Shikamaru wondered, peering out his window impassively and taking a glimpse of the stars, _if I failed Temari's test?_

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Not bothering to change into nightclothes, Shikamaru lay down on his bed and rolled over to face the opposite wall. It, like everything else in his room was tinted a deep blue.

_How will I react when she tells me I lost?_

* * *

The next morning was as bright as it ever had been. The sun alone awoke him, leaving him blind and awake only unwillingly.

Slowly, gently, Shikamaru rolled out of bed, got dressed, and tumbled down the stairs for breakfast.

When he entered the kitchen, he was not surprised to see his mother cooking. She always cooked, and, whatever it was, she was determined he ate it. He always did. She was such a bother when she was angry, which was very often.

Shikamaru slumped into a seat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the smooth wood as soon as they touched it.

His mother threw him a dangerous look. "Don't get impatient," she snapped.

That was his mother, welcoming as always. But he stopped drumming his fingers.

Yoshino flipped the frying pan, which he could now see held pancakes. Her dark hair was tied up in a knot atop her head, and she looked like she'd been awake for a while now. Of course, she always _was_ the first one up in the house anyways.

"Morning, Mom," he mentioned.

Yoshino smiled at his politeness, and asked, "How did your big night go last night, honey? With that girl from Suna?"

"Troublesome," Shikamaru muttered, laying his head down gently on the table. When his mother eyed him precariously again, he added, "I mean, it was awkward. And uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me."

Even though she _said_ she had a good time, Shikamaru thought wryly, it was really quite easy to tell when Temari was lying.

"Oh, but Ino said it was the girl that wanted you to go with her in the first place," Yoshino said curiously, flipping another pancake and laying it gingerly on the plate beside her. "She doesn't even like you and she demands a date of you? How rude." Yoshino shook her head sensibly.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. He was suddenly feeling rather defensive of Temari, though he was unsure why his mother's comment had triggered it—for, with all due respect to the Sand Ninja, Temari was indeed rude, to a certain extent.

Or perhaps she was pushy. Or controlling. Demanding?

Deciding troublesome was the proper word for the woman, Shikamaru lifted his head and his mother set down a full plate of pancakes and syrup. Lazily, Shikamaru picked up his utensils and began to eat.

Yoshino sat opposite him, folding her hands benignly in her lap.

"Are you going to see her again today?" she asked.

Shikamaru took a heavy swallow, and said, "I have to. I was assigned her guide while she's in Konoha."

"Right, right," Yoshino replied distractedly, and then suddenly she was sharp again when she said, "Don't you dare be rude, young man, I don't care how many times she stands you up I do not want you showing bad behavior around another country's—"

"Yes, Mom," said Shikamaru dully as he arose and stooped towards the sink to rinse his plate. Behind him, his mother was still declaring her dislike for Shikamaru's poor conduct around people who mattered. He decided it was not a good idea to point out that he acted the same around absolutely everybody, and instead left the room and headed out the door.

Konoha was just waking up at this time in the morning. Shikamaru never willingly got out of bed unless he had to, and today, he had to. Temari was waiting, he thought grimly, though that prospect didn't sound exactly euphoric.

He made his way through the streets, past people setting up carts outside to sell things, past people leaving their houses to get to work, past businesses opening and children playing, until he made it to Temari's tiny house.

He was about to knock on the door when he heard a small voice coming from around the corner… and it sounded as though it was crinkled with static.

"She _didn't_! Kchtt!"

"I'm afraid," said another voice gravely, "She _did_."

Curiosity grabbing him by the collar, Shikamaru peeked around the wall. Fully clothed and with his back to Shikamaru, Kankuro stood there holding a tiny, black device that seemed to be a walkie-talkie. Withdrawing himself from the corner and out of sight, Shikamaru pressed himself against the wall and listened carefully.

"Oh, my GOD! KCHTT!" someone shrieked through the walkie-talkie. Shikamaru suddenly realized who it was, and wondered why on earth Ino would be talking (secretly, he assumed) to Kankuro by means of a second-rate communication toy. He barely had time to ponder before Ino gave another yell:

"AND WHY," she thundered through the static, "DIDN'T YOU TELL ME BEFORE HAND?"

"Shhh," snapped Kankuro, "Temari will hear you. And speaking of which, Temari would have noticed something was funny if I suddenly pulled out a walkie-talkie and was all, '_excuse me I have to now inform Ino of your decision to ruin the date'_—"

"You could have done something while she was sleeping!" hissed Ino. "Kchtt!" she added angrily.

"Shut up," Kankuro replied crossly. "This was your idea in the first place, you can't expect me to take all the blame—that test was really hard anyways—"

"Oh no," Shikamaru heard Ino moan feebly, "all our efforts will be for nothing, then!"

Shikamaru blinked. Ino's _idea_? Their _efforts_?

What had they been planning?

"Yeah, well, he's lazy good-for-nothing anyways," retorted Kankuro, "You know he failed, right?"

Shikamaru didn't hear Ino's response. Oddly enough, the comment, "_you know he failed, right?"_ bothered Shikamaru much more than hearing how useless he was.

It never bugged him, to fail at something. In fact, he failed at most things he attempted—this was mostly because he hadn't the focus to see anything through. But, if he had wanted to succeed—he would be able to, right? He always went into things with that kind of confidence. If only he _wanted_ to try, he certainly could come out on top.

But women? And much less, _this_ woman? Was he to assume that he had failed to court her, but he _could _have if he had simply _wanted_ to?

And failing… would that mean he lost to her? Shikamaru let out a small "tch" of disapproval at the thought. Losing was one thing, but losing to a girl was entirely different.

Ino gasped at this exact moment. "Oh, my God," she whispered, so shocked she even forgot to keep up the enthusiastic stream of "kchtt's" she was supporting. "Oh, my God! Shikamaru—he's going to be so crushed."

Kankuro's voice sounded distant, somehow, to Shikamaru. "I thought he didn't like her anyways?" he asked, confused. "That's what you said. But _obviously_," he added, probably accompanying it with a roll of the eyes, "we had to try and set them up. What if they're not even compatible? Maybe Temari's right."

_What if she is wrong? _thought Shikamaru.

"Whatever," Ino mumbled miserably. The static crackled sleepily. "Just have Temari get on with dumping him. I saw him leave his house about twenty minutes ago. He should be reaching your place about now."

"Shit," Kankuro cursed, "Right, I should get back inside."

Shikamaru heard a click, and knew that the walkie-talkie had been turned off. A door slammed—ensuring that Kankuro had safely returned into the house through the conveniently located back door.

Leaning against the wall, Shikamaru mulled over everything he had just heard. Ino and Kankuro had been setting them up? Well, that seemed like the typical Ino thing to do. Shikamaru didn't have the patience to wonder what had suddenly possessed Kankuro to take charge in his sister's love life.

More importantly: What was he going to do about the situation?

He waited for several, long minutes before he finally had his decision. He put on a straight face and knocked four times on the door.

It swung open. The woman standing there met his gaze.

"Morning," he muttered.

She didn't look any different then he'd ever seen her—same clothes, same hairstyle, same headband, same Temari—but, knowing what she was about to say to him, she _seemed_ different. Everything seemed different, as though the world had promptly begun turning the opposite direction.

And then, unexpectedly, the hundreds of thoughts that raced around his mind were narrowed swiftly down to just one.

She was going to dump him.

"Hi, Nara," she smiled. She _smiled_. Was that pity in her eyes? Shikamaru felt sick thinking about how sorry she must feel for him. He didn't feel sorry for himself, so why should _she_ feel sorry for _him_?

She was going to dump him.

"Should we get going? Tsunade wishes to discuss with you what you will be doing during your stay," grunted Shikamaru, his mind far beyond the scope of the Hokage and her needs.

"Yes, but, I've got to talk to you for one second—"

She was going to dump him.

Temari shut the door gently behind her as she stepped out. Shikamaru barely realized they were standing too close, and stepped back just in time to avoid her walking right into him.

Then, to his horror, she took a deep breath and began.

_She was going to dump him._

"Thanks a lot for last night, Nara. It was really fun and I had a great time"—_she had a miserable time_, Shikamaru thought privately—"but…" she sighed. Shikamaru raised his eyebrows. He hadn't ever seen Temari with so much sympathy before. "You and I are too different. I honestly think it's better if we just stay friends because I don't think we—"

Shikamaru held up a hand to stop her. She looked puzzled, but she fell silent under his gaze.

"Before you dump me," he said slowly, "Tell me: How many times have you recited the same speech you're about to give me to other men you have dated?"

Temari looked taken aback for a brief moment before she gave a quick laugh.

"A lot, actually," she said, hitting him on the arm playfully. "You're funny sometimes, Nara."

"Call me Shikamaru," he requested, "since we're dating and all."

All laughter subsided; Temari peered up at him through those deft, green-blue eyes of hers.

"I thought we established we weren't doing that anymore."

Shikamaru kept his cool. "I never said anything like that."

Temari gasped, as if to say, _how dare you?_ Shikamaru took notice that she might be furious at him for denying her the right to deny _him_.

Shrugging, he hitched his thumbs in his pockets.

"We should go," he said pleasantly, "Tsunade is expecting you."

* * *

_Alas! I am done. Yikes, I've only written up to chapter six so far. I need to get cracking if I'm going to continue updating on time. I've been writing pointless oneshots lately (though my latest Sai/Ino earned some appreciated reviews :D) and haven't had any time for this story ! I'm sorry guys._

_Anyways, Leave me love. & lots of it (:_


	5. Chap IV: The Request

_(:_

**Chap. IV: The Request**

* * *

"Charm is a way of getting the answer yes without asking a clear question."

– Albert Camus

* * *

A half hour of silent walking later, Shikamaru and Temari stood in front of the Hokage's office door, Temari still fuming. Shikamaru pretended not to notice, wondering how on earth he had talked himself into putting up with this—as in, dating-wise. He hadn't ever thought of her romantically before.

But then he thought of Ino's hopeful face as she sent him off on the date last night, and he thought of her worry that he had overheard, her fear that he, Shikamaru, would be left broken-hearted—Ino, if she was the only one, wanted this relationship to work.

_For her_, he decided. _I'll just give it a try. For…_

He glanced at Temari, who had her arms folded neatly across her chest as she leaned against the wall.

…_her._

Shooting him a gaze that plainly wished him a painful death, Temari demanded, "Just what are you looking at?"

"Nothing," he responded, but did not look away.

"Enter," came a muffled voice from the door beside them. They entered.

The Hokage sat behind her desk, which was piled higher than ever with papers. She had one hand running sleepily through her blonde hair and the other holding up a sheet of paper. Her eyes scanned it droopily before she looked up.

"Oh, good, you're here," she yawned, and then she proceeded directly to the point, apparently eager to be rid of them.

"Temari, you are staying with us in Konoha these few months, correct?"—she paused to let Temari nod (and, for some unfathomable reason, Temari threw another look of loathing at Shikamaru)—"Good," said Tsunade, "I just received a letter from the Kazekage—he says that, while you are here, you are to behave as though you are a Konoha ninja—"

Temari's hand immediately snapped to her forehead. Her fingers brushed the hourglass of Suna on her headband.

Chuckling, Tsunade said, "Don't worry, you can still wear your Suna headband. But your brother, I think, would really prefer you, as the liaison, to get to know the village on a more personal level. This means going on missions with the shinobi if we are short—though a guest ninja from another village usually would not. Today you can relax, but tomorrow I fully expect you to make an effort in getting to know the villagers. You should probably be introduced to them as soon as possible, at least the ones closest to your age—Shikamaru, your job is to now have Temari interact with the people as well, understood?"

Temari nodded once and Shikamaru followed suit—which was apparently the wrong thing to do, as it caused Temari to glare at him once again. He was beginning to wonder if he had something ugly on his face when Shizune, who had been standing reportedly behind the Hokage's desk, asked in an alarmed tone, "Is everything all right between you two?"

"Yes," Shikamaru said, waving his hand in the air.

"It is certainly _not_ okay," snapped Temari. Tsunade's head lifted automatically from her paperwork.

"There isn't a problem, is there?" she asked sharply, narrowing her golden eyes.

"Is it… _legal_ for a guide and the liaison to be dating, Lord Hokage?" Temari asked imploringly. There was a note of pleading in her voice. "Because Nara here—"

"Shikamaru," he corrected under his breath.

"—seems to think that _we_ are dating, and I didn't want that to put pressure on the two villages—"

He noted her careful substitution of the anger she felt for concern. Crafty.

But evidently, not crafty enough.

"Oh, no, not at all!" cried Tsunade, looking delighted, "This is perfect. I think this was _exactly_ the personal level your brother was going for. You are dismissed," she added, beaming.

Temari looked aghast. The phrase "troublesome woman" teetered on the edge of Shikamaru's tongue, but he didn't say another word as they walked out of the office.

* * *

Temari couldn't believe she was stuck with Shikamaru—both in her job and in a relationship. What was he _thinking_ by refusing to be dumped? That he'd get lucky or something? Temari gave a loud "harrumph" at this thought, because she was not about to let this lazy, good for nothing lowlife of a genius get the better of her.

What truly puzzled her was that he hadn't ever shown this kind of interest in her before. Or any determination to win her over (win _any_ girl over, for that matter). It was just… random. So sudden. So abrupt. What had possibly taken him over? If Temari didn't know him better, she might have thought he was on something.

She put the thought of drugs from her mind. Shikamaru was smart. He liked strategy games, and he liked to win. Though Temari had never known a time that he hadn't quit when it was at his convenience… and she was quite ready to give up on this battle. So why, then, after all those times of running away, was he sticking with it?

There was only one possibility. That he was playing a game with her.

The thought made Temari's hair stand on end. She was _not_ a toy.

And yet, she couldn't help but think that something, somewhere inside him was honest. Some part of him actually wanted this, even if she didn't, even if their date had been a disaster, even if it would make things awkward for them in the long run. It might have been an idle hope, a flicker of imagination—but Temari refused to believe that she was just a pawn in another one of Shikamaru's strategy games.

* * *

The next day, ten shinobi stood in a row in front of them. It was as though they had been lining up to be sent on a particularly huge mission—they were aligned perfectly and weren't speaking—but the only thing that detracted from this slightly awe-inspiring dedication to posture was the fact that they stood in a rather sloppy living room, in front of a shabby green couch.

"This is the original Konoha 11," Shikamaru introduced. Temari looked them over. "You should know some of them."

"_Most_ of them," corrected Temari coolly. She did, contrary to popular belief, pay attention when she had come in contact with them the first time. She was pretty sure she had met them all, either very briefly as Shikamaru relayed information, while on a mission, or during her own Chuunin examination. She remembered some of the rest, whom she did not converse with often, by face alone.

Shikamaru ignored her. "There's Naruto, of course, and Sakura," he stated. Sakura waved and Naruto grinned. "You know Ino and Chouji already"—Ino gave a huge beam and Chouji, an acknowledging nod—"Kiba, Hinata, and Shino"—all three glanced up and smiled, with the exception of Shino, whose face was still well hidden—"and Lee, Tenten, and Neji," Shikamaru finished, pointing to the last three.

Once Lee had finished demonstrating the Nice Guy pose as a greeting, Temari hitched her hands high on her hips and surveyed them. It was quiet for another moment, until she muttered, "Nice to meet you all—"

"So Temari is going to be staying with us, eh, Shikamaru?" Naruto asked loudly, interrupting her. Temari was about to raise a fist and hit him, but then she remembered she was under obligation not to abuse any Konoha ninja and restrained herself reluctantly.

"That's right," answered Shikamaru. "I know it might be troublesome, but"—he glanced at her sideways, his narrow eyes tilting smugly just a bit—"we're all just going to have to put up with her."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded, accompanying the question with a smack to the arm. Shikamaru winced, but gave a fragile smile as the rest of the room chuckled.

"If that's it," Kiba complained loudly, "Our team has to go—we've got a mission."

"Kiba," Hinata whimpered, ashamed of her teammate's impatience. Shikamaru waved his hands in dismissal.

"It's alright, you can go. All of you can—I know you're busy."

"Thank you, Shikamaru" and "Nice to meet you, Temari" was exchanged a few times as the ten ninjas filed out of Shikamaru's front room. Before she left, Ino came up to Temari and captured her attention.

"I'm _so_ thankful you're here, Temari." She smiled rapturously. Temari stared. Since when had this girl been excited to see her? Temari and Ino had met, of course, and on most of the occasions Ino hadn't paid any attention to Temari except for polite small talk. It was always for the sake of Shikamaru that they put up with each other, or so Temari thought. But now, as Ino's blond hair swayed and her eyes sparkled right before Temari's own, darker, greener ones, she was sensing that something was just different with this girl today.

"—I mean, who else better than to put Shikamaru in his place, right?" Ino smiled again, this time warmer, friendlier, and she laughed, playfully hitting Shikamaru on the arm.

Freezing instantly, Temari looked between Shikamaru and Ino. Had word gotten around that she and Shikamaru were dating? If it had, oh, God, she already felt anger rising in her throat—

"Also, I'm having a little party in a few weeks," Ino babbled on incessantly. Everyone else had already left, save for Chouji, who was waiting patiently by the door. "You know, just a get together sort of thing, and I was wondering if you wanted to come—it would certainly help you get to know everyone. Shikamaru's going to be there too. He could even _take_ you, if he felt up to it." Ino winked jokingly and nudged him. Shikamaru rolled his eyes as Temari breathed a sigh of relief. So Ino _wasn't_ familiar with their… erm, _relationship status_ yet. But she certainly seemed to like the idea.

Of course, the first thing Temari had done when she got home the day of the meeting with Tsunade: She'd told Kankuro. She'd raged about the house, infuriated that Shikamaru got away with such a deed, but yelling about it made the situation no less difficult to deal with. And so she had come up with the idea to test him as many times as it took for him to fail. Permanently.

Ino's sugary voice broke her silence. "Um, Temari…?"

Head snapping away from Shikamaru (whom she had been glaring at with much venom), Temari replied oh-so-wittily, "Huh?"

Shikamaru smirked. Temari shot him a look of pure loathing.

"My party. Did you want to come to my party?" Ino asked.

"Oh, right," laughed Temari nervously. "Of course." To be polite, she smiled, though her mind was still racing with the idea of what would happen if word of she and Shikamaru got around.

Ino's face broke into relief and she stepped past them.

"Well, I'll see you later then, guys. Have fun," she teased, looking at Shikamaru, who rolled his eyes, and then she disappeared through the door to the small apartment. Sending Shikamaru a slightly apologetic grin, Chouji followed her.

It was quiet for a few moments once they had vanished. The remaining two stared at the door where everyone else had vanished. An awkward silence settled between them and made itself comfortable.

What was she supposed to do with him now?

Thankfully, Shikamaru broke the tension. "Well," he sighed. "What now?"

"That's exactly what I was going to ask," muttered Temari. She glanced up at him again, struck once more by how much taller he had gotten since her last visit. Once, a long time ago, she had stood eye to eye with him, but now she barely came up to his nose. And his face had gotten longer, thinner, more masculine—he, she realized with a jolt, was growing up.

Shikamaru shrugged. Temari tore her gaze away from him, annoyed again. Apparently it showed on her face, because he flashed another smirk. It was then Temari realized how eager she was to get home, away from Shikamaru, away from the trauma of meeting new people and going to parties. She didn't want to have to think about what she was going to do with this situation, how she was going to handle it and still retain her pride—

Abruptly, Temari blurted out, "Well, wonderful day, best be getting home."

She turned to follow the other two out the door. The second she was out of Shikamaru's piercing, all knowing gaze, she was confident that she would feel better—but Shikamaru's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Wait."

Craning her neck so she could see him without having to turn around, Temari asked impatiently, "What is it?"

Shikamaru stared at her with a solid, unreadable expression. His eyebrows creased as though he were pondering something.

The request tumbled clumsily out of his mouth.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to come watch the clouds with me."

* * *

_Okay. I think I'm seriously going to have to switch my updating to every two weeks instead of every week. Not that I don't like updating faster for you guys._

_Just that I don't have the capacity to write that much within a short amount of time. I've already got a pending request. And zero ideas._

_If anyone has a plotbunny for a Sasu/Ino that would be much appreciated (:_

_Leave me Loves._


	6. Chap V: The Wind

_One of my favorite chapters I've written so far. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I do like the theme, though it changed several times. (:_

**Chap. V: The Wind**

* * *

"The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."

– William Arthur Ward

* * *

The request tumbled clumsily out of his mouth.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to come watch the clouds with me."

* * *

Temari wasn't quite sure what suddenly compelled her to answer the way she did to Shikamaru's request. It wasn't like she even wanted to go watch some stupid clouds. And yet, the reply sprouted from her throat as though someone had punched her in the stomach and forced the it out of her—but there it was, one yank of the string and the words were pulled out of her mouth.

"Sure," she answered, blinking. "Yeah. Of course."

Shikamaru looked momentarily stunned, but then he withdrew his hand from her shoulder and said, "Okay. Let's go."

"Right," said Temari seriously, as though she was preparing for a mission rather than going to cloud-watch.

Shikamaru led the way to the door, opening it fully. Temari passed him and felt tension tighten the atmosphere.

It wasn't that she didn't like clouds, it was just the thought of watching them seemed so… boring. And it was also the fact that, every single time he had requested this before (for lack of anything better to do during her previous visit) she had declined and gone home, while he carried on alone.

Shikamaru befuddled her, alright. But she was becoming a stranger to herself, as well.

* * *

Shikamaru knew Konoha like the back of his hand. Every villager did—no one in had ever lived permanently anywhere else. And, since it was already late in the afternoon, their time to watch the clouds would be limited—it was logical, of course, that he would know the fastest route to all the prime cloud-viewing locations.

Naturally, it took them little time to get there, even though Shikamaru was purposely wasting time by walking at a slower pace than usual. Not being able to put his finger on what possessed him to ask Temari to watch the clouds with him then, of all moments, and not knowing why she responded so positively had given him a lot to think about.

They came to the field. It was just on the other side of the Academy, on the slope of a minor hill; it was a place Shikamaru had found as he moseyed away from class one day. As they sat down on the grassy floor, Shikamaru mulled over what they were going to talk about. She obviously didn't have much pleasure in being with him—_But,_ Shikamaru thought, slightly smugly; _I never lose to a girl._

He lay down, resting his hands behind his head. The grass tickled the back of his neck familiarly as his eyes skimmed over the sky—which, to his pleasant surprise, was a nicely rich blue, and full of wonderfully puffy, white, friendly clouds. They didn't push each other in vast blueness, but merely floated along peacefully and politely, staying out of the sun's way.

Temari remained seated with her knees curled under her. Shikamaru didn't bother to ask her to lie down next to him or wonder why she was sitting so rigidly. Instead, his mouth stretched into a yawn as he closed his eyes.

"How come you like clouds so much, anyways?" asked Temari.

Without opening his eyes, Shikamaru answered, "I like their simplicity."

Temari did not respond. He wondered if she was glaring at him again.

The breeze ruffled him. It felt cool, sweet, and docile on his cheeks, possessing him in a way that nothing else could. He had always liked the wind—when it was gentle. Opening one eye, he peeked at Temari. Her hair was blowing very slightly, and her eyebrows were narrowed as she gazed up at the clouds, as though attempting to decode a hidden message.

The wind blew very calmly against her, unsettling her clothing and hair just slightly, but never in an overbearing way. Shikamaru wondered just how alike Temari and the wind were—Temari used wind to fight, but was she like it at all? He knew she could be fierce and controlling and wild all at the same moment—but what of its tranquil times, its peaceful times, its sleepy times? Was she ever serene or untroubled?

"Ha," he whispered, but it was enough for Temari's head to snap in his direction, and she suddenly looked livid. Not an unusual emotion for her, Shikamaru concluded, but definitely troublesome.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked hotly.

"You look like you're in such pain," he smirked. "Just relax."

In response to this, Temari stiffened (if possible) even more, and scowled. Shikamaru watched as her eyes narrowed. They were the shade of the grass and the sky combined into one.

"I'm not troublesome," she said firmly, as though she had been meaning to get that off her mind for a while. Shikamaru wondered if she had been reading his thoughts. "_You're_ the one who's the real trouble."

Deciding not to point out that he hadn't even called her troublesome (…today), Shikamaru cocked an eyebrow apathetically.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It is."

Her bangs tousled in the wind, exposing her eyes again. He was having trouble looking away from them, even to glance back up at the clouds, which he was beginning to pine for. There were no clouds in Temari's eyes, only solid, streaking sky and earth tumbled into one graceful combination. From the way her mouth bowed downward, her eyebrows creased in, and her fists clenched, Shikamaru guessed that she was restraining herself from yelling at him.

He blinked nonchalantly, his eyebrow arching higher. This was when Temari exploded.

"Don't _look_ at me like that!" she exclaimed, her hands coming up by her face and balling into offensive fists. "Don't lay there and act like you _know me_, and tell me I'm _troublesome_—_you're_ so much trouble for such a lazy kid, and I'm stuck with you because of some stupid date—"

The wind seemed to suddenly pick up speed along with her anger. Was he imagining things?

"Temari," Shikamaru interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I didn't say that—"

Temari ignored him.

"—which I didn't even want to go on, by the way," she pointed out, raising a finger. Shikamaru rolled over on his side so that he was facing her better. "You haven't got a clue who I am, do you? I'm the daughter of the fourth Kazekage, sister to the fifth—I'm strong, too—I could kick your ass if I wanted to—"

"Temari."

"—don't miscalculate me, Nara—Oh, _what?_" she snapped.

"Why do you care so much?"

Temari's face contorted into a mixture of trepidation and something less easily definable. Shikamaru didn't know what to make of it until she said in a softer, more vulnerable tone,

"Nothing, I just…" She looked pointedly away, towards the distant trees, her eyes tapering again. "I just didn't want you to underestimate me."

The sun crept lower in the sky. It sunk behind a cloud, barely blinking over the edge and tinting everything orange. Temari's hair lit up like fire, and her eyes were ablaze with emotion. Only now did he see it, and he felt blind to have missed it before.

"Does it have to do with your pride?" he asked.

Her attention spun impulsively towards him. Eyes thin, Temari surveyed him in that irritated way. Shikamaru assumed that he guessed right.

"You shouldn't worry about that," he muttered, resting back onto his elbows and arching his neck, stretching it effectively, "Pride can only get you so far."

The sun descended lower into the sky, lapsing quickly behind clouds. It seemed like several moments that Shikamaru and Temari merely stared at each other, the lighting changing gradually from oranges and yellows to light purples and pale pinks. The first stars of the night glittered above them.

When she spoke at last, Temari's voice shook slightly.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to tell you not to be bothered by it so much," he said simply. Temari stared at him, as though he was suggesting she do the impossible. He shrugged, and looked away, out across the grassy hills that stretched on before they reached the market places and the housing on the western side of the city.

"Don't be so stressed," he suggested. "Just… sit back and watch the clouds."

Timidly, Temari unbent her knees and straightened her legs to lie beside Shikamaru.

"I don't like this," she said stubbornly. "I'm not used to it. I prefer to be on my feet."

"Of course you'd say that," he mumbled, rolling his eyes again. "Don't worry about it. If you worry too much, everything seems too troublesome."

"You must worry a lot then," she countered.

Looking back up at the sky, Shikamaru chuckled. The clouds that were present in the daytime always fluttered away by night, but he watched the stars poke their noses through the slowly darkening sky regardless.

As the day slipped away, Shikamaru and Temari rested in an idle silence. It was different from all previous silences they had shared, which, admittedly, was a lot. It was a wide, open and unguarded silence; the kind that only came from having broken a barrier of distrust.

It was not long before the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, beckoning the day to join it underneath its covers. Stars now littered the sky, winking through holes in the black blanket of the universe. Shikamaru had always gone to bed at the earliest convenience, so he never really took time to watch the stars before now—but as they shifted in and out of his sleepy vision, he wondered why he hadn't ever thought to do so before.

If clouds were the simplicity of the sky, the stars were—

"Enchanting," Temari said so quietly that she might have been talking to herself. "I've always loved stars."

"Do you watch them often?" asked Shikamaru.

"Not _often_," she replied, twitching her head a little to angle her vision, "Just every once in a while."

Shikamaru tried to imagine Temari sitting in Suna, staring up at the night sky like she was now. He wondered what the stars looked like from her perspective, and as he glanced back in her direction, he saw that they reflected in Temari's eyes the way clouds could not.

Temari was like the wind she utilized to fight, he concluded, in every way possible. She was fierce and controlling and wild, all at the same time—but tonight had proven that she could be the softer, gentler side of the wind, as well.

Temari peeked sideways at him and, even in the dark he saw her flush, embarrassed at being watched.

"What are _you_ looking at?" she asked. The corners of her mouth tugged upward in a smile that revealed her teeth.

For the second time since the day he had met her, Shikamaru found himself thinking that Temari was just like his mother.

"Just… observing," he replied. Temari shook her head blatantly.

"You're weird, Nara," she said. Fondly.

"It's Shikamaru," he said carefully. "Since we're—"

"—dating, and all," Temari finished. She looked at him again, a bit awkwardly. "I know. But you're going to have to work a little harder if you want me to grant you a first name."

Shikamaru nodded his appreciation to this unspoken challenge. He was determined to show Temari that he was worthy of everything she didn't think he was good enough for—including herself.

They lapsed into silence as the wind tickled the stars above them.

* * *

_So, for some reason some of my avid reviewers didn't get the memo that the new chapter was up, ha ha. Well, leave me plenty, folks (: Also, if it's not too much to ask, hit up my story "Home" (under the Sasuke/Naruto catagory, though it's not a Sasu/Naru) because I'd like to know how I did on it, since it was just a quick write that I did in about an hour (that includes editing & all that jazz)._

_Thanks (: Love ya._


	7. Chap VI: The Academy

**Chapter VI: The Academy

* * *

**

"I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me… All I ask is that you respect me as a human being."

– Jackie Robinson.

* * *

Six o'clock had always been too early for the day to start. But when you lived and worked in a ninja residing place, under the most powerful woman in the village, you didn't argue.

"Shizune. _Shizune!_"

The woman came rushing into the Hokage's office (two cups of tea in hand), only to come face to face with Tsunade herself. She looked distinctly lion-like, with golden, sleep-devoid eyes and her blonde hair disheveled like a mane around her.

"I just realized," Tsunade gasped, slapping a hand down on her desk and sending papers flying, "That I send Iruka on a mission."

"Um," replied Shizune as she set the tea down and collected the papers hurriedly. Tsunade really was a mess when she was tired and angry. "That happens, Lady Tsunade—he's a Chuunin after all—"

"I sent him on a _mission_, Shizune!" cried the Hokage, tugging on a fistful of her own hair. Shizune wondered for the umpteenth time if the woman was deranged. "A _mission_! And it's a _Thursday_."

"Yes, I know it's a Thursday," Shizune said gently. TonTon poked her snout into the room and waddled in. Shizune exchanged a restless glance with the pig. "Is there a problem with that, ma'am?"

"It's a school day!" Tsunade shrieked. "Who will watch the kids?"

Shizune blinked. "Oh…"

"Who are we going to send instead?! There's no one qualified! Agh!"

Tired of the outbursts, Shizune withdrew a tiny bottle of sake from her pocket, poured the contents into one of the mugs of tea, and shoved it into the Hokage's hands. Tsunade instantly calmed when she took a sip.

"Don't worry," Shizune said reassuringly, restacking the papers on the desk as Tsunade imbibed her tea/sake with an oddly vacant expression on her face. "I know just the people who will take care of everything."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Shizune stood with none other than Temari and Shikamaru at the doors to the Academy.

"Okay," Shizune instructed, "We're short teachers today, so it's going to be your job to educate the kids. Shikamaru, you know how to do this"—Shikamaru yawned in response—"And Temari-san, we beg your forgiveness for the short notice, but this will give you opportunity to, erm, get to know the village like your brother wanted you to."

Temari nodded politely. She had trained kids before, back in Suna—how different could it be in Konoha?

"Class starts in about fifteen minutes," said Shizune. She looked a bit frazzled. "You're in Iruka's classroom—your old one, Shikamaru—so hurry there. This is just for today, understood?"

"Yes," said the two new teachers in unison, and with the exchange of small goodbyes, Shikamaru and Temari turned away from Shizune and walked towards the classroom.

"What a pain," Shikamaru groaned as they turned a corner. Temari rolled her eyes.

"Don't treat the kids with that attitude," she snapped.

"Don't treat the kids with _that_ attitude," he nodded. Temari scowled as they reached the classroom door.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'm not the best with kids—but I can handle them. I did in Suna, once."

"_Once_ being the key word."

"Oh, shut up," she said as she walked into the room.

Children were scattered about the rising desks, jumping and laughing. Rosy-cheeked ten year olds toddled about, giggling and talking and eating candies. The second Shikamaru had stepped in behind Temari and shut the door, there was a loud chorus of high-pitched voices crying, "_Shikamaru-sensei!_"

Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck in a slightly embarrassed way.

"Sit down," he replied, leaning against Iruka's abandoned desk. Obediently the children scrambled to their seats and sat up straight. Temari watched this with fascination—it was true, then, that the main difference between the Sand and the Leaf villages lay within their respect.

Temari had always experienced respect in Suna—because she was a member of the Kazekage's family. Because Gaara was her brother. Because she could kill you with a glance, and that didn't even include what she could do with her fan. The Sand's respect had always been centered around fear. It was the only kind of respect Temari had known, until she'd come to Konoha.

Because the Leaf's respect came out of something different, more wholesome and warm. It was so painfully obvious, as she watched Shikamaru conduct the class, that this respect was because every child in the room truly looked up to Shikamaru and liked him. He was lazy and boring and annoying and arrogant, but they all _liked_ him.

How could the man she so loathed be so popular with these children? How were they different?

How was _she_ different? And how could she be more like him?

"…And helping us out today is Temari-sensei. Since it was troublesome traveling all the way here to see you guys, we've got to be extra thankful to her today, okay?"

Snapping away from her own thoughts when Shikamaru said her name, Temari blinked for one moment of confusion. The children were watching her expectantly, and her mind went totally blank. Everything she and Shikamaru had agreed to do with the kids that day had evaporated—what was she supposed to say next?

"Hello," she said awkwardly. The children continued to stare.

Temari glanced helplessly at Shikamaru, who mimed something involving a fan and other weaponry.

"I—I'll be helping those of you who think you'd be interested in weaponry," said Temari hurriedly, getting the gist. She flipped her fan from her back and opened it swiftly, earning "Ooh's" and "Ahh's" from the children.

"We should get outside now," Shikamaru said suddenly, as though afraid that Temari might get carried away in the classroom while she had her fan out. She chuckled internally at the thought.

Once outside, Temari found herself in a small arena. Its walls were short; only about waist height, and there were straw and wood dummies were scattered every several yards. Broken weaponry littered the ground. It was clearly a training site for the academy students.

Temari took a deep breath and held her fan so that it was parallel to the ground. She leaped on it and spread her chakra evenly over it as she performed a select few hand seals, and with grace and ease, she flew over the children. With her fan out, she was in her element.

"Often ninja from the Sand use weaponry in their fighting," said Temari, landing on the opposite side of the group of kids and swishing her fan around delicately. A breeze that was no larger than one from a ceiling fan swept through the arena. "The key to a weapon is control—"

At that moment, voice much smaller and shriller shattered her speech.

"Aren't weapons a handicap?" it said. Temari stood stock still, glaring around at the bunch of kids. Who dared to question her skill?

It was a child about four feet high, with straw for hair and clear blue puddles for eyes. His eyebrows rose apathetically.

"A… a handicap," repeated Temari. And then, with venom, "No it's not a _handicap_."

"Could you fight someone without it?" said the boy, nodding to her fan. "Or do you just lean on it all the time?"

"Kohaku," a girl whispered behind him. Her tiny hand reached forward and grasped his shoulder, as if to pull him back to safety, but he shrugged her away.

"Could you?" Kohaku demanded.

"I could certainly blacken _your_ eye without this fan, kid," Temari growled, and that was when Shikamaru stepped in front of her, as though sensing the loathing seep from her body.

"Stop being troublesome, both of you," he commanded. Temari retched silently at the authority in his voice, but the kid shot him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, sensei," said Kohaku. He glared back at Temari. "I was just wondering if all the Sand ninja were this dependent on their weapons."

Anger twisted on her face as Temari took a threatening step forward. Shikamaru threw a hand out over her shoulders to stop her from hurting the very daring child.

"Enough, Temari," he said. "Kids, your shuriken practice begins now. I don't want to hear another word from you, got it, Kohaku?"

Ashamedly, Kohaku nodded and waddled away with the rest of the kids to where the straw dummies were set up. As soon as they were out of earshot, Temari let a snarl rip from her lips.

"That kid is _so _dead—I _swear_—" Her fists clenched by her sides, but Shikamaru put two calming hands on her shoulders.

"Temari." It was a statement, smooth and solid. Dependable. "These are children. You can't expect them to be perfect. They don't really know what respect is yet."

"They show _you_ respect," spat Temari, wiggling out of his grasp. "You handle them all so easily—but _you're_ nothing special. _I'm_ the one who's a guest, _I'm_ the toughest kunoichi of the Sand, _I'm_ the one who went through shit they'd never even dream of—but _you_, stupid, lazy, _idiot_ Nara gets all the respect in the world and you don't even_ deserve_ it."

Something like comprehension molded in Shikamaru's face as he watched her. Temari stood her ground, her hand still balled, her frown still deep and etched into her skin. As the moment went on, she could hear a dull thunking from the shuriken practice in the near distance.

Shikamaru hit a nerve with his next statement.

"So you're jealous?"

Her fingertips wend numb. _Jealous_? How could she be _jealous_?

"I am not," she replied coolly, folding her arms.

Shikamaru took half a step closer to her. He frowned slightly.

"They show me respect because they know me. _And_ I'm friendly," he added, pointing to her fan, which was still out and very threatening. "You have too much troublesome anger."

"_Don't_ call me troublesome, Nara—" began Temari hotly, but Shikamaru cut her off.

"Look," he said flatly, and with impatience. "They don't even _know_ you, Temari. They don't care if you are respected in Suna. To them, you're just another person."

Temari didn't speak. He gave her a painful look, and then turned around back to where the children were practicing.

She might have stood there for hours as she let Shikamaru's words float around in her mind. "_Just another person"_? Temari had never been _just another person_. She was always important in some way. These children, it seemed, had different ideas. They liked Shikamaru because he was kind and a good role model—not because of his status. But because of his personality.

_Tch_, Temari thought scathingly. His lazy, unenthusiastic ass was getting more attention than her hard working diligence? How on _earth_…?

But with a jolt of unprecedented affection, Temari realized just how fatherly Shikamaru looked as he crouched down beside a girl with bobbing pigtails. His expression was nourishing. She watched his long, calloused fingers lift a shuriken into the air and flung it off into the distance. It hit its mark. He turned back to the child and smiled in a simple, elegant way, with his eyes showing something pure—who knew that he could be so handsome?

For the rest of the day she watched Shikamaru, and only Shikamaru, noting carefully the respect he gave and took from the children. He was graceful in the way he weaved through their questions, answering delicately in terms their young minds would understand. He was gentle, and never rough or sarcastic—it was like he altered the way he behaved around them, _for_ them. It was… respectful. And thoughtful. Things she never thought he could be.

Eventually Shikamaru dictated that it was time to pack up and go back inside, as class was about to end. The kids trumped victoriously back inside, followed slowly by Temari and Shikamaru.

"You're good with them," she mumbled, as she walked beside him.

"Thanks," he replied.

Respect for Shikamaru pumped from her veins. Temari found herself suddenly alike the kids in the most fundamental of ways: she looked up to him, if only for that brief moment, as he turned before entering the classroom to smile guiltily at her over his shoulder.

The classroom quieted as he held up his hands. They were powerful. Temari wondered what they felt like.

He said, "Who wants to be let out early?"

They cheered and whooped in enthusiasm. Shikamaru chuckled in that parental way.

"Okay—once everyone's in their seats and has everything packed up you can all leave."

The children scrambled to sit straight, packing loose papers in their bags. After a few minutes, Shikamaru said happily, "Alright, good job on shuriken practice today everybody—Kohaku, see me after class please—dismissed."

In the squabble of children with loud voices and stamping feet all trying to get to the door at once, one child extracted himself from the group, his blond head bowed. Shikamaru kneeled and muttered something to him. The boy nodded and then toddled his way to Temari instead.

He looked up at her. Wearily, but with wide, daring blue eyes. She liked them.

"I'm sorry for being rude today, Temari sensei." He offered her a bow. "It wasn't very respectful of me."

Temari could have reprimanded him. She could have told him off again and again. She could have made him feel fear—and perhaps, had she not seen Shikamaru with the kids today, she might have.

"It's okay," she forgave him.

A toothy smile crossed his face, only briefly, and then he turned and stomped out of the room with a final wave at the two of them.

The classroom was empty.

"Thanks, Nara," Temari said into the empty, chalkboard-scented silence.

"Anytime," he replied, and she followed him out of the building.

* * *

_Uhm, kind of a filler chapter, heheh._

_Anyways, don't hesitate to R&R (:_


	8. Chap VII: The Alcohol: Part I

_No one has been reviewing lately T__T _

_Much love to Odhora for being chapter seven's ONLY reviewer! You're awesome(:_

**Chapter VII: The Alcohol (Part I)**

"Alcohol is the cause and the solution to many of life's problems."

– Dan Castelleneta.

* * *

"Hey Kankuro?"

Kankuro's hands gave an angry twitch. As a result, the puppet attached to his fingers by chakra strings flipped. Twice.

"What, Ino?"

"Has your sister ever gotten drunk?"

Kankuro looked behind him and up at Ino. They were in a clearing in the forest; Kankuro was trying to practice with a new puppet he'd made, and Ino had decided (rudely) to come along. She was now sitting cross-legged upon a tree branch twenty-some feet above the ground, leaning against the trunk and examining her nails boredly.

"Temari doesn't drink," Kankuro said shortly, and he turned back to the puppet, crouching down, crossing his arms, and focusing his chakra, ready to perform a new attack—

"What would you say if I told you I spiked her water bottle with sake?"

In Kankuro's shock, chakra exploded out of his fingers and along the strings, causing the puppets head to promptly fly off with the force. It landed some distance away, but Kankuro didn't really notice.

"…THE HELL DID YOU _DO_, INO?"

"Nothing, nothing," she replied in a reassuring voice, smiling and waving her hands hastily as he began to advance toward the tree. "I was just wondering. You know, if she did get drunk then she'd loosen up a little around Shikamaru, probably."

"You want my sister to get drunk just so she can _loosen up_?" roared Kankuro. "Temari's going to _kill me_ if she finds out I was involved—"

"Don't worry," Ino said, hopping delicately down from the tree and landing on her feet. "You don't _have_ to be involved."

She gave Kankuro a sinful smile. He groaned in response.

* * *

Half an hour later, Ino had snuck through Temari's house, set out a water bottle on the table (attached to a note that read _From Kankuro—just thought you'd like some_) in which she had replaced the water for a bottle of the Hokage's finest clear sake.

Ino hid behind the television set, ensuring first that she would be undetectable by sight, and she waited.

Before long, the door creaked open and Temari walked through. She locked it and tossed her fan onto the couch as she made her way into the kitchen for a snack—and she stopped at the table where the bottle was waiting patiently.

She glanced at it. And picked it up.

_Victory,_ thought Ino smugly.

Temari peered at the cap surreptitiously.

"It's open," she announced aloud.

_Shit._

Promptly, Ino began to panic. What if she couldn't get Temari to down the bottle? It would ruin her fun. Her reckless, hazardous fun.

In one swift movement, she stepped out from behind the television and performed a hand seal, and muttered, "Mind Transfer Jutsu."

Temari heard it. She turned around—but not quick enough. Ino's mind had successfully been swallowed into Temari's—Ino knew this as she suddenly found herself watching her own body slide down the opposite wall.

Ino squirmed. With her jutsu, she had experienced what it was like to be in several body types, but Temari was even different than she had imagined. She was thicker and taller, with wider hips and shoulders. And these clothes! How did Temari stand them? They were itchy and didn't feel right to Ino.

But Ino didn't waste time marveling about how different her and Temari were. Clumsily (with her new fingers), she lifted the water bottle to her lips and drank the sake.

Once the bottle was finished, Ino paused. She felt fine. Normal, even. She shifted through the cupboards for more alcohol, and once she found another bottle, she downed that too. And she still felt utterly sane.

_God_, thought Ino impatiently, _what a stubbornly sober woman_.

Once she had completely cleared out the kitchen of any alcohol that remained (it consisted of a few bottles that mentioned on a note attached: _Kankuro's – Do not drink_), she still wasn't completely drunk yet, though she had noticed that her vision was becoming a bit hazy and her senses dulled.

_Well, I might as well head over to Shikamaru's. I know where his dad keeps his sake, and since I want Temari as close to Shikamaru as possible as soon as possible—_

She didn't finish her thought. Instead, she got right up and walked out of the house.

It took her a little more time than anticipated (what with her fighting to walk in a straight line and all), but she made it to Shikamaru's door and knocked.

After a moment, a grim-faced, brown haired somebody opened the door.

"Temari?" Shikamaru asked, his face shocked and confused. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Let me through," Ino muttered, trying to put on the most Temari-like face she could imagine. She pushed past Shikamaru easily and continued on into the kitchen and under the sink, corking open the first bottle of sake she found. She drank it in six gulps. And swayed.

"One more bottle," she gasped, reaching for it. Shikamaru stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his face empty of anything but alarm.

"Why the hell are you taking my dad's sake?" he demanded. "What's with you being troublesome all the sudden—?"

"Had a bad day," Ino grunted through uncorking the next bottle with her teeth. She drank that, too, and quickly—her head was beginning to spin.

"Ha ha," she muttered drunkenly. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she remembered she had to do something… what was it…? …Oh yes, get back to her original body… she set the sake bottle down, not caring that it had fallen and was spilling over the floor…

Finally, with much struggle, Ino managed to press her hands together.

"Release," she mumbled, and the last image she saw in Temari's body was of Shikamaru crouching down beside her, and his voice speaking gently, with concern…

"_Temari… Temari, are you okay…?"_

She woke up a moment later in her own body, in a very dark living room that she recognized as Temari's. Her head was spinning just slightly as the effect of the alcohol wore off. What was unusual about her surroundings, and certainly not a product of her headache, was that there was a pair of legs standing in front of her, clothed in black pants. As she looked up, she found that the legs were attached to the rest of a human, also wearing black—

Kankuro's arms were crossed. His eyes were narrowed. He did not look happy.

"Heh," laughed Ino. She eyed him cautiously, trying to look innocent.

A growl split Kankuro's lips. He looked very angry indeed.

* * *

_Kind of a short chapter, forgive me. Next one will be better._

_But may God help me on it, for writing a drunken Temari is not going to be easy…_


	9. Chap VIII: The Alcohol: Part II

**Chap VIII: The Alcohol (Part II)**

"A drunk (woman's) words are a sober (woman's) thoughts."

– Proverb.

* * *

Shikamaru shook Temari by the shoulders.

"Temari. Temari, are you okay?"

Temari's eyes seemed vague and hazy, as though she wasn't really there—but of course she wasn't. Ino had been in there, at least until she released the Jutsu. He'd known it right from when she'd gone to his dad's storage of sake—no one knew where that was except the closest friends—AKA, the Yamanaka's and the Akimichi's.

He shook Temari again. She flopped like a ragdoll in his arms. He knew she wasn't asleep—this was part of a new technique Ino had been learning, one that pushed the subjects mind completely from its consciousness. He didn't know how long it would take Temari to fully come back, but he hoped it was soon, because it would be so troublesome if his mom got home right now and found this mess—

Hastily, he set Temari down in what he hoped was a comfortable position and began to mop up the spilled sake. When he had everything clean, he looked back at Temari. Her eyes were fluttering open slowly… was her mind back in its rightful place?

"Mmmm," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them all the way, she propped herself up and tried to stand—Shikamaru rushed over to help her to her feet.

Once up, Temari fell face first into Shikamaru. Her face buried itself in his shirt, her hands gripping his sleeves. Tightly.

"Naraaa," she grumbled, looking up at him. He saw that her cheeks held a rosy, alcohol-induced blush.

_Oh, what a pain_, he thought. _She's still drunk._

"Temari, we should take you home now," he mentioned, "Its getting kind of late."

"It is not," she groaned. "I'm not going home yet, damn it."

She fell at him again, this time with such a force that she pushed him backwards a few steps. He was careful not to drop her, but also careful not to fall himself—she was putting all her dead weight on him and he was beginning to grow tired of this.

"You want to… do you want to lie down?" he offered, not quite sure how to handle a woman as drunk as Temari was. In truth, he'd never really handled _anyone_ drunk before.

Temari's face split into a wide grin. Her eyes squinted. "Yes, that sounds nice…" She let her two fingers crawl up his chest and to his chin. "Where's _your_ room…?" she wanted to know.

"Uh," Shikamaru mumbled, but before he could answer, she moved past him, wobbling slightly, before breaking off into a tipsy jog out of the kitchen.

"Hey, wait, Temari—"

He heard a crash sound through the house. Temari had run into the wall.

"I'm fine, the wall just jumped in front of me," she assured him. Shikamaru stepped into the next room only to find Temari bobbing clumsily down the hall. He jogged after her.

She found his room on the third try—first opening the door to the bathroom and then to his parents' room. Shikamaru followed her in, with only one phrase echoing in his mind.

_That goddamn troublesome woman_.

Temari was lounging on his bed when he entered, leaning against the wall with her legs crossed in front of her. She looked quite natural sitting there, and, though Shikamaru would never openly admit it, rather adorable. He sat at the foot of his bed and waited for her to speak.

She gazed at him with eyes half closed, head leaning back against the wall. Her ponytails were getting crushed, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Hey," she muttered unexpectedly, "Your shirt looks too tight."

"_Excuse me_?" Shikamaru spluttered, being very properly shocked.

"Your shirt…"

Temari crawled toward him, slinking like a cat. Her eyes were slightly glazed—she certainly looked out of her mind.

"Get this… green thingy, get it off," she complained, tugging at his Chuunin vest. For a moment Shikamaru watched her as she tried furiously to unbutton the jacket, and then he grabbed her wrists, noting just how smooth her skin was. He realized then, that he'd never actually touched Temari.

He savored it for a moment. Her hands on his felt like silk.

"What?" Temari asked in a jumbled voice, "I'm trying to get your damn shirt off so it's not so tight on you…" She flipped her fingers unenthusiastically.

"Temari, you're drunk," he whispered, "You don't know what you're doing."

"Can't hear you," said Temari loudly.

"Drunk," repeated Shikamaru, "You're drunk."

For a moment Temari stared at him, her eyes half closed and her eyebrows creased together in thought. But a moment later, her nose wrinkled in a deep laughter—too raucous for the situation. Her shoulders shook with the action.

"I can't be drunk, silly," she told him, tears of mirth in her eyes, "I don't drink." And she proceeded to attempt to remove his clothing.

"Temari!" he said, flustered and embarrassed.

"What?" Temari whined. She abandoned the Chuunin vest (which was now half off) and slung her arms around his neck. "What's the use of having a boyfriend if you can't get him naked?"

"Naked!" Shikamaru yelped, struggling out of her grasp. "What on earth are you talking about, woman? I thought you didn't even like me?"

"Of course I do," Temari mumbled, "I like you a lot. I just don't want you to think so, so I won't seem weird." She began scooting closer to him and putting her hands on his stomach. Shikamaru gave a groan of humiliation, giving himself a face-palm in the process.

And then suddenly, he felt himself be shoved backwards. His back came in contact with the wall that his bed was pushed up against. When he regained vision, Temari was beginning to crawl onto his lap. She sat with her legs—which, Shikamaru now noticed, were very tan—on either side of his hips. His brain grew slightly numb. All thought of how to best handle Temari in her current state evaporated immediately, replaced by only one, seemingly more troublesome thought:

She was on _top_ of him.

"Um," he said stupidly.

"Shhh," Temari hushed him loudly, leaning closer to him with her face. Her hands were pressed to the wall on either side of his head, her elbows bent at right angles—she was so close he could feel her breath. Now that she was there, she leaned her body into his, slipping a bit clumsily.

Shikamaru gave a groan—this time of annoyance or embarrassment, he didn't know. She was sitting on top of him, her limbs in all the right places. Her nose, but an inch away from Shikamaru's, was sprinkled with a light layer of freckles he never would have noticed before. She was quite pretty this close.

And then, as if to ruin the moment, she hiccupped. It reeked of sake.

"Oh, excuse me," she giggled in a very un-Temari-ish way. Shikamaru gave a gasp of vexation—Temari was really a bit of a handful on a normal day, and now this.

"Don't be such a bastard," she reprimanded him offhandedly as he rolled his eyes. "You're pretty friggin' lucky I'm even here…" She trailed off. "Now where were we?"

"We were somewhere?" asked Shikamaru, who was growing a bit afraid of what she was planning to do with him.

"Oh, I remember…" She leaned toward him again, and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on his mouth.

He pushed her shoulders away a moment after she made contact. Her head jerked back, and she appeared mildly bewildered.

"You asshole," she slurred, her fingers crawling up his chest again. "I try to give you some and then I get rejected…"

"Just—Temari, for God's sake," Shikamaru struggled, "You're _drunk_. Ino made you drink a bunch of sake—"

"Ino?" she gave a brief drunken scoff, rejecting the thought, and then insisted, "I am not," though at that moment she chose to lose her balance and fall sideways off of him. She rolled away towards the headboard, and then crawled back to Shikamaru, curling up by his side. She set her head on his chest and cuddled under his arm, forcing it around her shoulders. Her body was warm where it touched his.

Shikamaru squirmed.

"Don't move," Temari commanded, closing her eyes.

He stopped moving.

He must have stayed still for an hour after that. Temari's breathing became regular and even after a while, and he guessed she had fallen asleep. He supposed he could have moved if he had truly wanted to, but Temari seemed too comfortable to unsettle.

Shikamaru himself was too preoccupied to fall into the easy, drunken sleep that Temari was in. But as he sat there—for hours, he knew, because the light outside his window was growing darker and darker—he had nothing to do but admire Temari in her simplicity.

Her face was relaxed when she slept, something that was unusual for such a rowdy girl. Her hair changed colors with the lighting, from canary yellows to sunset oranges, and to dim golds. He allowed his fingers touched it for just a moment—it wasn't sharp and rigid like he had expected it to be, but instead pliable and soft. He thumbed her cheek, which was still rosy from the sake, and waited for something to happen.

His relief came about a half-hour later, when the sun was sunk completely down and it was dark in his room. He heard the front door open and a voice call, "I'm home!"

Silence.

"I said, I'm homeee!"

Still, no response issued from Shikamaru's mouth. He didn't want to speak too loudly—Temari was still sleeping.

Thumping footsteps came down the hall. Each one was like a car crash echoing in Shikamaru's ears—couldn't they just be _quiet_? Temari was _sleep_ing, for God's sake.

"I said, I'm ho—oh my," Shikamaru's mother muttered as she poked her head into Shikamaru's room and flicked on the lights.

"Hello, Mother," whispered Shikamaru.

Yoshino stared at her son and at the girl asleep on his lap. For a second she gaped in shock, and then she reared back in anger.

"When did she get here? Why didn't you tell me were having a guest? AND WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU TWO DOING IN THIS ROOM?" she thundered.

"Shh, Mom," Shikamaru begged. "Temari… er, she had a bad day and needed company. But she's sleeping, so please…" Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Temari's serene face pinch and relax again with the noise level changes.

"Oh," replied Yoshino, much quieter. The familiar motherly look overtook her features, and she nodded. "Of course. I still expect an answer from you tomorrow, young man."

With that, she walked from the room. Breathing deep, thankful breaths, Shikamaru leaned his head against the wall, crushing his ponytail. He could feel Temari's heart beating against him, and eventually his breathing tumbled into rhythm with it.

It may have been several more hours later, but eventually, Shikamaru was reduced to a shadowy sleep in which he dreamed of a kunoichi with four ponytails and alcohol.

* * *

_How badly did I fail ?_


	10. Chap IX: The Other Side

**Chap. IX: The Other Side**

"I have found men who didn't know how to kiss,  
(But) I've always found time to teach them."

– Mae West

* * *

Light filtered gaily through the blinds. Temari rubbed an eye as it heated her vision with redish tint. Did she even have windows at that angle to her bed? She was pretty sure she didn't. And what was with her pillow? It seemed firmer, and muscular. Also, if she wasn't mistaken, it was moving up and down in almost a breathing motion.

Eyes still firmly closed, she tried to figure out just what on earth could be going on in the world outside of her. She would have already opened her eyes and investigated, but there was a headache mounting in her temples.

After a few minutes of struggling to think, Temari opened one eye as a tester. As expected, sunlight attacked her vision automatically, and she had to blink a few times to clear the sensation, but when she could finally see she found that she was staring up into the sleeping face of a boy.

His hair was falling sloppily from his ponytail, his eyes closed. She realized what the motion in her "pillow" was—his _breath_ing.

_Shikamaru_'s breathing.

With a quiet yelp, Temari scrambled from the bed and onto the brown rug on Shikamaru's wooden floors. Immediately she regretted this decision, because her headache jumped at her again with renewed malevolence.

Slowly, holding her head, she eased herself back onto the bed and lay down at its top, on an actual pillow this time instead of Shikamaru's stomach, which she had been occupying before. She tried to glare at him with all her hatred, but the headache was too strong—and _so_ annoying.

Trying not to stress herself out, she wondered just exactly what she was doing in Shikamaru's house in the morning… asleep, and cuddled next to him, on his_ bed_. She tried to remember what happened last night, but all that remained was a dull blur. She remembered getting home from her afternoon walk and getting some water, and then… nothing.

With growing horror, she realized that _anything_ could have happened to her. Shikamaru wouldn't have taken advantage of her or anything, but… her body felt suddenly weird, strange and foreign, as though it really wasn't hers. What had it done while she was, apparently, not in her right mind? And why was she so close to Shikamaru when she had obviously made it clear that she didn't want to be…? Though, now as she thought about it, he was quite comfortable. And he _was_ her boyfriend…

Silently she reprimanded herself for thinking such thoughts. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, this certainly _wasn't_ her fault—whatever had gone on. She shoved the inviting thoughts about resuming her position beside him away and focused on what exactly she was going to be screaming at him once he woke up.

Oh, he was in for a beating.

_That is_, she thought miserably,_ if this troublesome headache ever goes away._

Temari did a mental face-palm. She was spending too much time with this lazy bastard.

* * *

She stayed in the same curled up position with the pillow clutched between her arm and her head for another forty-five minutes until Shikamaru roused himself awake. First his lean arms stirred, and then his face twitched a few times. She wondered if the sun was bothering him, too.

At last his eyes opened, one at a time, and blinked around at the room. He sat completely up and gave a groan of pain, stretching his neck. She suddenly felt bad for him—he had been sleeping while leaning against the wall for the whole night? And with her on top of him? It must have been uncomfortable.

With a burst of fondness, Temari realized just how sweet it was of him not to push her off, as she would have expected him to do. It was what_ she_ would have done.

And as he blinked again and cleared his eyes of sleep, Temari gave him an awkward, sideways, good-morning-sunshine smile. She didn't mean to, but once it was off of her lips, it stood there in the open. Preparing to be judged, rejected, or cast aside as meaningless—she was surprised when Shikamaru's own, thinner lips returned the smile softly.

"How are you feeling?" he wondered. His voice was hoarse and cracked the shimmering morning silence like it was glass.

"Headache," she muttered, her smile disappearing and being replaced with a grimace. Shikamaru nodded, and then asked,

"Do you remember anything?" He hesitated, and looked down in a discomfited way, "From yesterday, I mean."

Instantly her anger sprung into action again, and she tried to sit up—her temples moaned in pain, and she flopped back down on the pillow, doing her best to shoot him a glare that would light his stupid (yet oddly sexy), messy ponytail on fire.

"I don't," she responded waspishly, "So what the hell happened?"

"Well, you were drunk," he mentioned.

Temari wrinkled her nose. "I don't drink," she corrected him matter-of-factly.

"Well you must have had something when you came over already then. Because you seemed pretty out of it," he paused again, as though reluctant to tell her something. "And then you scrambled around my kitchen and drank up all the sake we had in the house, claiming you'd 'had a bad day.'"

"Oh." She became abruptly flustered, and embarrassed. She didn't _remember_ having a bad day. Or scrambling around his kitchen. But a more pressing matter was that Shikamaru had seen her drunk—worse, he'd had to _deal_ with her. She tried to imagine what she'd been like.

"What did I… do?" she wondered. Almost afraid of what she would hear.

"You ran into a wall, for starters."

A snort of laughter broke through her mouth. "God, I must have looked like such an idiot," she said.

"Well," he replied, cracking his neck and giving a half-hearted smile, "You _were_ pretty troublesome to control."

"You didn't… shadow bind me or anything?" she speculated. Shikamaru shook his head wearily.

"I thought about it, but… You weren't exactly in your right mind, were you? It wouldn't have been fair."

Temari tried to sit up and managed to get on her knees with minimal head pain.

"What else did I do?" she wondered.

Shikamaru looked away.

"You tried to kiss me."

"Oh," she said again.

A polite silence nestled between them, coating each in its thick unease. Beyond the inelegance of the moment, Temari contemplated what it might be like to kiss Shikamaru. His lips, which were thin and supple—what did it feel like to touch them?

"Um," she said, flustered. The statement floated from her lips and landed, powdery and white, on the bed sheets, which she now gripped with fists that were clenched in awkwardness. "I'm sorry about that."

Shikamaru looked at her. His eyes were slender and sheer; his posture bony as he twisted to catch her expression. She looked at him only reluctantly; suddenly sensing Rejection, of whom she was desperately afraid. Perhaps it showed on her face, because he suddenly relaxed into a kind smile. Not unlike the one he had given the children at the school when they had been to the Academy. It was the kind of smile that understood even when nothing was clear.

"It's okay," he allowed.

Temari returned the smile gratefully, confirming that they had lived through the moment.

"We didn't do anything else, did we?" she asked.

"No," he agreed, looking thankful. "We didn't. You fell asleep on me pretty soon after that."

The bedsprings groaned as Shikamaru stood up and walked towards a small mirror hanging tight to the wall in the corner. He glanced at himself, rolled his eyes, and flicked out his ponytail—his hair fell across his shoulders just briefly enough for Temari to see that it was but a little shorter than her own when it was down—only to tie it up tightly a second later.

Without looking at her, he said, "You want a second to freshen up? My mom's probably already making breakfast… and she's going to be wondering what we did last night."

"Sure," she said without really thinking about it. Then she realized that she'd never met his mother properly. _Oh God,_ she mentally moaned, feeling inexplicably idiotic. _Way to make a first impression, Temari._

"Bathroom's the first door on the right," said Shikamaru before nodding at her and slouching from the room, leaving Temari to her own devices.

After she made it into the bathroom (the headache was still pressing, but gradually lessening), she redid her own four ponytails, washed her face, straightened her clothes, and then took a deep breath. Her shoes seemed to echo loudly on the floor as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Oh, you must be Temari!" cried a woman who was bending over something on the stove (making breakfast, probably). She had long hair that was the same color as Shikamaru's, and now that they were greeting each other properly, Temari noticed Shikamaru had inherited her nose and neck and shoulders. "I'm Yoshino Nara, by the way—Shikamaru's just been telling me how fantastic you are,"—personally, Temari doubted this—"you really must join us for breakfast, we're all just dying to get to know our little boy's first girlfriend—"

Temari's gaze swerved behind the woman, where Shikamaru was sitting at the table. He had just flopped his head down into his arms in embarrassment.

She smirked. So she was his _first_ girlfriend? Temari had always thought he'd been more experienced by the way he acted when he was around her, as though he knew what he was doing—

She argued privately with herself that, indeed, this must be the truth, for what girl would _ever_ date that lazy bastard?

_Oh yeah_, she recognized glumly after a moment; _that would be me_.

Realizing that Yoshino was still blabbering away with idle chatter, Temari feigned paying attention, nodding and smiling. She was a good woman, Yoshino: Temari could already tell that they'd get along, though she was secretly afraid that if she ever was anything but polite around her that she, Temari, would officially be disowned from the Nara family.

"—but anyways, breakfast. Have a seat," she offered as she skirted around Temari with a pan and made for the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen to set the pan by four plates. Willingly, Temari obeyed, and in a moment a plate of steaming eggs, bacon and hash browns was thrust in front of her.

A man stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. He stretched and yawned widely and then, seeing Temari seated beside Shikamaru, the man gave a huge, proud grin.

"And who are you?" he wanted to know. He sat down across from her. Judging by his smug expression, half-opened eyes, high ponytail and lounge-like walk, there was no guessing who Shikamaru got his personality from.

"This is Temari, Dad," Shikamaru answered for her. "Temari, this is my dad, Shikaku."

"Nice to meet you," said Temari, doing her best to smile. As if the world wasn't bad enough with_ one_ Shikamaru…

Shikaku held out his hand and shook Temari's strongly before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

"Firm handshake, that's good, especially for a young lady like yourself… Reminds me of the first time I met your mother, Shikamaru." He opened one eye and glanced at Yoshino, who had suddenly begun scrubbing the dish with such a force that Temari was surprised it didn't break in two.

"You were lazy even then, too," she snapped, "And you turned your nose up at me."

"But I came around…" he mumbled, closing his eyes and trailing off into peaceful silence, in which Temari was almost positive she heard him snoring quietly.

Yoshino finally joined the rest of the family at the table and they began to eat. She felt more queasy than hungry, but to be polite Temari nibbled at her eggs, which were delicious. Yoshino grilled Shikamaru with chatter (the usual Mom things to pester him with) as Shikaku nearly fell asleep in his bacon. Occasionally a question would fly her direction, and she'd try to catch and cradle it with ease, often failing and spluttering herself into ridiculous silence. It seemed that no one but her noticed this failure, however, and she wondered why she was feeling self-conscious around _these_ of all people.

Breakfast ended soon, and Shikaku jerked himself awake, muttering, "Shikamaru, can I see you in the hall?"

Shikamaru blinked down at his half-finished breakfast in surprise. "Sure, Dad," he agreed, and the two left the room in the same lazy fashion. Yoshino collected the plates and dumped them in the sink.

"Oh sorry," Temari muttered guiltily, "I'll help—"

"That's quite alright," Yoshino replied, waving Temari away kindly, "You're the guest. Clever though, of the boys to escape right when cleanup comes, hmm?" She gave a laugh. It was a tinkling, musical sound, like a wind chime.

Temari allowed a smile as well.

"So, Temari, tell me about your home," Yoshino said, turning on the water and wetting a sponge, "I hear your brother is Kazekage."

"Yes," Temari replied. "I'm in Konoha on business."

"And you agreed to date Shikamaru?" Yoshino laughed another wind chime laugh. "You're a sweet girl for putting up with him when you don't have to."

"It's not a problem," said Temari, wondering where Yoshino was going with this, "You're pretty good at it," she added smilingly.

Nodding, Yoshino replied, "Well, my boys have their handsome moments too. They're not all lazy and good-for-nothing. That first impression can often be misleading—but why am I telling you this?"

She caught Temari in clear, happy eye contact. Her smile was like a bubble, floating faithfully into the air.

"You obviously already know Shikamaru's other side, don't you?"

His "other side"? He _had_ another side, besides the lazy, sarcastic crybaby side? Truth be told, Temari didn't know what Yoshino was talking about, and she suddenly felt like she was missing out on something both very special and very rare; something that, by now, she should know of. But she didn't know, and it was a lonely, secluded feeling.

"Um." Temari lied, "Yeah. A bit."

Another smile slipped from Yoshino's lips as she went back to washing dishes. They lapsed into an easy silence, Temari's mind still buzzing with what this "other side" of Shikamaru could be.

After a while, Shikamaru himself slouched back into the room.

"Dad fell asleep on the couch," he announced, earning a pinched expression from his mother. He then nodded to Temari, "Kankuro's probably wondering where you are."

"Yeah," she agreed only half-heartedly. "Guess I should get going."

"Come on," Shikamaru beckoned her with a hand, "I'll walk you home."

"Nice to meet you, thanks for breakfast," Temari said to Yoshino's back. The woman looked over her shoulder and gave another smile, this one more reassuring than anything else. Temari guessed that Yoshino had sensed her discomfort—she was just as perceptive as her son.

* * *

Temari wanted to talk, to say something, anything, just a simple phrase to get the dusty, late-morning air moving around them. So she settled with,

"Your mom is really nice."

That earned a chuckle from Shikamaru.

"What?" asked Temari snappishly as they continued down the street, passing and occasionally waving to people they (or rather, Shikamaru) knew. "She is. She made me _breakfast_. No one's ever made me breakfast before."

"It's just funny you should say that…" he trailed off. She was about to ask why that was so funny when he said, "You two are a lot alike."

She blinked in rhythm with her footsteps. "We are? How"

"Yeah," he replied, "Both bossy and troublesome women."

"Oh, of course," she said scathingly. They fell into silence again, but she could see her house from here anyways.

They approached the door and then turned to face each other for goodbyes, an act they'd grown accustomed to in these few weeks. Sunlight shone upon them, bright and awake, saturating every color in its reach.

"Well," Shikamaru whistled out.

The word hung in the air.

"Well," agreed Temari. "I'm sorry for getting drunk yesterday and… trying to kiss you and everything." The last part of her sentence came out rushed, as though the words had pushed and shoved each other out of her mouth. "That was probably… awkward for you."

Shikamaru shrugged. "It was okay," he said.

Temari stared at him. He seemed to realize that he had said something strange as well, for his eyes suddenly got a bit wider.

"I mean," he stumbled, "_It's_ okay, the issue—well, the kiss was okay too, that is, it wasn't bad, not that I was aiming for that—I'm saying I forgive you, for that—oh, this is troublesome," he finished lamely.

Temari laughed, only now making the connection in her mind: She was Shikamaru's first girlfriend, so that kiss she gave him yesterday… that was his _first kiss_.

"Look at me, Nara," she said, and Shikamaru did. In this glorious light, it wasn't hard to see that his cheeks were tinted pink in embarrassment. Was this the other side his mother had been referring to? This embarrassed, adorable, oddly lovable Shikamaru?

"Sorry," he mumbled ashamedly, looking down and away—but before he could turn, Temari caught his chin with her fingertips. She could only imagine his surprise when she kissed him for the second time. His lips were soft and gentle; she pressed very faintly against his bottom lip and then pulled away.

"_That's_ how you kiss someone," she said matter-of-factly, putting one hand behind her on the door handle, "Incase I didn't teach you properly last night."

"Right," nodded Shikamaru bemusedly, his expression glazed, "I'll keep that in mind."

With a final, fragile smile, Temari turned the door handle and made to go inside, away from his dazed face, imagining Shikamaru documenting kissing techniques away in his genius of a brain.

"Wait."

She turned back to face him. His expression was vulnerable and cautious.

"Ino's party. It's tomorrow night. You promised her you'd go."

"Oh," said Temari as she remembered the 'promise.'

"So, would you… I mean, I'll swing by here at around… how's seven?" He looked nervous and self conscious, something Temari had never seen in him before. She gave him a smile, to calm him down, but it might have come out as a smirk (she _was_ finding this quite humorous) because he didn't appear the least bit relaxed.

"Seven," she agreed. "How should I dress?"

"Dressing up is too troublesome," he replied. "I'm not going to do anything special."

"That probably means Ino wants us to."

"Probably."

Silence. It was a silence that waited for something extravagant to happen; it waited for some phenomenon to shock the awkwardness away. It waited, and waited.

It seemed that now, after all this time of being lazy, and a coward, Shikamaru decided to push some courage to the surface. Temari watched his face change from susceptible and exposed to impermeable and determined, as his fingers made contact with her wrist to pull her forward.

And Temari saw quite clearly his "other side" when he kissed her. It was much the same as when she had kissed him just a few moments ago: Soft and quick and smooth, with light, brief pressure. It was sweet, though, and Temari felt its calm collectedness as she closed her eyes. He released her mouth and let go of her wrist a half-second later.

"…the results of your teaching," he nodded to the moment, which still seemed to ring through the air like an echo.

"I'm not a bad teacher," Temari teased, and then she said, "Tell your mom thanks again. Good bye, Shikamaru."

He stared at her.

"I mean, Nara," she corrected quickly.

His face relaxed into an effortless, simple smile. It was a beautiful kind of smile, and it was the last thing Temari saw before she turned the door handle and went inside.


	11. Chap X: The Party

**Chapter X: The Party**

"You do not love somebody because they are beautiful; they are beautiful because you love them."

– Anonymous.

* * *

Temari wasn't surprised at the look on Shikamaru's face when seven o'clock came around the next day. It was one of such shock that he looked like he was about to fall over, and nothing except his desire to keep staring at her in that little red dress kept him standing.

She was pleased that the expression was there, of course. She'd tried her very hardest to doll up for him, to make herself beautiful, for the sake of making him want her. The kiss yesterday had given them both a lot to think about, and Temari decided that if Shikamaru was willing to put effort into this relationship then she would, too. She was starting (regrettably) to enjoy the idea that they were together, though she was determined to wear the pants in this relationship if it took everything she had — and that included playing up all the right womanly features to make a certain Shadow-Ninja go weak at the knees.

So she stood there, hair straightened down to her shoulders (flaring out inconsistently) as she waited for Shikamaru to say something. She'd found this dress in the back of her closet (and she never even remembered buying it, though she had a faint suspicion that Kankuro had something to do with its uncanny appearance time). It was a dark red, the kind of color that she'd heard all men were supposed to love on a woman, and judging by the way Shikamaru was looking her up and down, she'd heard correct.

But instead of a compliment, what came out of Shikamaru's mouth was,

"Where did you get that dress? I've never seen a shop that sells something like that before."

"I made it myself, stitch by stitch," Temari told him sarcastically, stepping out of her doorway; her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she and Shikamaru began to walk towards Ino's house. Happily, she noticed that her shoes made her taller so she was now just _barely_ shorter than him.

"It's nice," he replied, looking away. Temari gave a small chuckle.

"Thanks. You don't look to bad yourself," she teased.

And he didn't. Though he was wearing the very same pair of slacks and neat collared shirt that he'd worn on their first date, Shikamaru seemed to have made an effort. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

Ino's voice was ear-splittingly thrilled.

"Shikamaru! Temari! _Finally_!"

Before they had even made it to her front porch, she rushed down the pathway towards them in a tiny purple party dress. Inside, they could hear what sounded like the whole village having a good time.

Shikamaru watched Ino hug Temari, only to see her pull away a second later, leaving Temari very confused indeed. He fought back a smirk. Temari didn't know how to handle Ino yet. But, he thought complacently, they'd learn to get along. They'd have to. Temari was becoming just as much a part of his life as Ino already was, if not more. Thanks to the latter, anyways.

He wondered vaguely (and as Ino seized both of their arms and all but flung them into her house) if Temari had any idea that her brother and Ino had initially planned this relationship the both of them had fallen into. He decided that, in the event that Temari did _not_ know, _he_ wouldn't be the one to bring it up. If Temari ever found out she'd probably assume that he was just playing with her emotions the whole time… and that certainly was _not_ what he was doing.

As he watched Temari give a beautiful laugh of appreciation at Ino's hospitality, he thought to himself that it was quite the opposite. If anyone was playing with emotions, it was Temari.

"Would you guys like something to drink?" Ino asked quickly, tugging them into the main hall. Ino's house was deceitfully spacious, with wide hallways and rooms. In the kitchen there was a catering crew busy at work while in the dining room, the tables had been shoved aside so that there was a large empty space in the middle. Lights were placed above to enhance the cool feeling of a dance floor. A DJ stood behind a table with the musical equipment spread in front of him.

Ino definitely went all out on these party things, Shikamaru thought. He responded to her question with a polite shake of the head, as did Temari. Ino didn't skip a beat in her hostess routine as she reeled off,

"Well, if you ever do just ask one of the waitresses, see the women in black with the trays? We have a bunch of stuff in the back to drink — and if you want to dance obviously go ahead in there, in fact I think someone's waiting for me" — she stood on her tiptoes to see over Shikamaru, and then gave a familiar, coy smile at a mystery man behind them — "um, so I'll see you guys around, and Temari, Shizune says to make sure you get introduced to people, alright?"

"Um," replied Temari before Ino cantered off around them to a young man with sandy brown hair behind them.

She and Shikamaru exchanged glances. For a few moments they stood still in the hallway, their eye contact drawn out and exceptionally withholding. Noises from the party drifted through to the small, slightly enclosed spot where they stood. Shikamaru found himself, for what felt like the thousandth time in the few hours he'd seen her that evening, quite hypnotized.

Her brow was furrowed deeply, as though in great concentration.

"What are you thinking?" he had to know.

"I'm testing you tonight," she told him, sleeking out a wrinkle in the deep red fabric of her dress.

"Testing me?" he asked. He tried not to watch the way her hand smoothed the cloth down her thigh. "You mean like back on that first date?"

She didn't ask how he knew.

"Yes," she replied, and her hands flicked to her hips. Darting, blue-green eyes caught his own in another gripping stare. This time, though, it teased him and taunted him. Temari was _try_ing to make him go insane, wasn't she?

She took a step forward, ensuring that she was much too close now.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm testing you on?" she demanded. If he didn't know her better, he would have said she looked angry. Fortunately, he did know her better — better enough to recognize that she had been dying to throw this out there for the whole night.

"What are you testing me on?" he asked. Each word felt heavy on his tongue.

"I'll tell you if you pass," she said, with satisfaction. She was close enough to kiss again, and Shikamaru found himself wanting to reach out and pull her forward — he wanted her close enough to feel her heart beating.

It was truthful to say that he'd never actually kissed a girl before Temari. He'd kissed his mother and relatives, and Ino on the cheek a couple of times. But never _act_ually _kiss_ed. And now that he tried it, it dominated a large portion of his thoughts. It was driving him insane, this want to seize Temari and kiss her senseless.

_Shut up, idiot_, he told himself, _this is not the moment to let your emotions get the better of you_.

It was hard to keep himself under control, however, as she sidestepped him diagonally, barely brushing his shoulder with her own elegantly bare one. Yesterday, that first kiss had set his mind (not to mention his hormones) completely aflame. Nothing would satisfy the spinning sensation now occurring in his mind; this wild sensation of desire that was completely foreign to him.

He watched her hips sway with her walk as she made her way down the hall and towards the dance room. She looked at him again over her shoulder, flashed him an untamed smile, and disappeared through the door.

Staying where he was for several moments, Shikamaru attempted defectively to clear his brain of everything and anything related to Temari.

He was unsuccessful.

With a smile of his own, he followed her into the next room.

* * *

Temari had never been to a dance party before. She'd never truly let herself go the way she'd heard women do when they danced. They said there was thrill and peace all at once on the dance floor, but to her, that feeling came in a battle, when she had her fan out and she was just as wild as the wind.

It was warm in this room — mercilessly so. Her hair was beginning to make her neck sweat slightly, resulting in a very uncomfortable feeling.

As she waited in a lonely fashion on the sides of the room for Shikamaru to enter the room, someone slightly taller than her and with lots of spring in his step came up to her.

"Hey, it's Temari right?" he asked over the music, grinning widely and boyishly. Something about his brown hair and the red triangles donning his cheeks — she recognized him, but… who was he, again?

"Yes," she smiled politely.

"Ha," he muttered, "We met a couple weeks ago. The name's Kiba, remember?"

"Of course I remember your name," she lied with a grin to match his. "The one who wanted to get out of the meeting so badly. I remember."

Kiba shot her a second boyish smile. Music pumped zealously around them, with bodies dancing on the floor in front of them. They moved as though the beat held them on strings.

"What are you doing all alone here?" he asked, scanning the dance floor as though looking for someone. "Isn't Shikamaru here with you? He's not being a very good boyfriend by leaving such a pretty woman alone, is he?" Kiba winked.

Temari stood fixedly at his statement.

_How did he know?_

"Of course he's here," she spluttered, standing on tiptoe to get a better look around the room. Relieved that she saw a familiar brown ponytail spiking through the crowd by the door, she pointed him out to Kiba. "He's right there."

"Ah," Kiba replied, eyebrows arched and looking ambiguously disappointed. "How are things going between you two anyways?"

"Fine," she said without skipping a beat. He gave her an invariable stare, under which she was beginning to become slightly discomposed. Catching Shikamaru's eye from across the room instead, she waved him over as the song changed, grateful for a distraction. "How'd you know we were dating?" she blurted out.

Kiba shrugged. "Heard it in passing. Apparently the Hokage knew, and she told everyone."

Temari was about to curse Tsunade loudly and profoundly when Shikamaru stepped into their conversation.

"Hey Kiba," he nodded to the other. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he replied, "Just keeping her company until you got here. Why don't you guys go ahead and dance already? Haven't seen either one of you on the floor all night."

"Dancing is such a drag," Shikamaru moaned, and Temari kicked him.

"This lazy bastard won't ask me to," she retaliated icily, giving Shikamaru a sideways glare, to which he rolled his eyes. Kiba looked between the two of them once and then said,

"Shikamaru,"

…in a very expecting tone. The latter gave a groan of resentment.

"You're failing the test," Temari whispered to him. His eyes snapped to her, scowling with annoyed fascination. She smiled back in satisfaction.

The whole truth of the matter was that Temari hadn't come up with a test until the moment she'd caught him alone in the hallway. It was a rough, mental outline of the first one she'd ever created, and she'd refilled and redone it in her brain to match the situation and up to how he was behaving now:

_1. Is he on time?_

_2. Is he dressed nicely?_

_3. Does he ask me to dance?_

_4. Does he offer to get me refreshments?_

_5. Will he walk me home?_

She'd kept a few from the last one, just because those were her basic rules to dating at all times, but the way things were going now, it didn't really matter if he passed or he failed.

She and Kiba waited a moment.

Shikamaru whistled out grimly, his eyebrows tapering to a point; he looked very deep in thought, as though sorting through a deep internal struggle.

Cue Temari's smirk.

Cue Shikamaru's sideways glare.

Cue Kiba's laughter.

Cue the question.

"D'you…" Shikamaru cleared his throat. "Do you want to dance, Temari?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," she drawled, rolling her eyes to the corner in mock contemplation. "You made me wait so long I think I've grown tired."

Shikamaru groaned in frustration, allowing Kiba an opportunity to bark with laughter.

"I'm terrible at this," he grunted. "Just dance with me already."

A smile split Temari's face. Not her smile designed to provoke his teenage hormones, or put into action just to piss him off — no; this smile was much pleasanter, much more realistic. Shikamaru relaxed instantly when he saw it.

She said, "'Course I'll dance with you."

He inclined his head toward the dance floor, where people were pausing and clapping at the end of the song that had just played (which apparently was a favorite of many). They left Kiba (who was now eyeing a dark-haired girl a few feet away) and proceeded into the middle of the dance floor.

* * *

Ino felt daftly lucky that she had chosen to look up at that particular corner of the room the moment the song had ended. Shikamaru and Temari were headed onto the dance floor.

"Uh," she muttered to the sandy-haired boy she had been dancing with. "Will you excuse me for a minute?"

"Sure," he said, kissing her hand and then letting it fall. She giggled in goodbye, and then all but sprinted (as fast as she could in heels) to the other side of the dance floor where the DJ was getting ready to play the next song.

"Oi," she shouted impatiently at him. The DJ (a middle aged and slightly balding man who looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here) glanced up at her with rough eyes.

"What?" he snapped.

"Play _this_ song," she said, handing over a tiny slip of paper with a song and an artist written on it. And then, after a moment of hesitation, "Now, please."

"Sure," he said gruffly, rustling around his area for the record.

Ino flashed him a darling smile, and then trotted back towards the boy. Lucky she was so on top of things, or Shikamaru and Temari would have completely missed out on what very well may have been the best dance of their lives.

* * *

_I'm not remotely proud of this chapter but it gets you where you need to go, so... review. (:_


	12. Chap XI: The Dance

**Chapter XI: The Dance**

"Other men said they have seen angles,  
But I have seen thee  
And thou art enough."

– G. Moore.

* * *

Music, soft and slow and acoustic, drifted from the speakers.

"This is a request," the DJ mumbled through a mic. "Enjoy."

Shikamaru was thoroughly startled. He had expected more upbeat, bouncy music (which he had no idea how to dance to, by the way), but instead… this. This peaceful, gentle music. What was he supposed to do _now_?

Glancing around himself and Temari, he noticed that couples were beginning to form and dance together. Ino and the sandy-haired boy weren't far off; he caught her eye and she winked.

_This is Ino's doing_, he thought grimly.

He turned back to Temari, who looked beautiful underneath the subjective lighting in the dance room. It hit her face in all the right places, accentuating what it needed to accentuate. It was just bright enough to tell that she was embarrassed, slightly. Her eyes were outlined in confusion.

"Are we going to dance or what?" she asked, trying to uphold her usual tough nature. Shikamaru's expression softened slightly as he took one of her hands in his own and placed his other on her waist. The fabric of her dress was thin and effortless underneath his fingers.

He moved his feet slowly. Together they swayed with the rhythmic strumming of the song. He was paying little attention to the lyrics and more to the way Temari's eyes were tilted in modest pleasure. He felt her hips moving leisurely under his fingertips, her hand pulsing quietly in his. It was all so unreal, this moment of theirs, that Shikamaru wanted to extract himself from it and see what was actually happening to him then.

What was this darling, precious feeling brewing somewhere in his chest? This affection so powerful that it felt like he was about to burst… what was it? And the way Temari's thumb lightly stroked a place on his neck… why did it make his senses spin away from him? Why did it feel like he was being held afloat by a thousand invisible birds?

Genius as he was, Shikamaru never would have guessed that that was the moment he had begun to fall in love with her.

They danced for what felt like an eternity, easily and simply. Temari was growing clearer and more beautiful by the second, as though being tweaked into focus by his growing fondness. She was more charming than he would have ever expected her to be, and easily captured his every sense. Her scent (which was a dry, out-doorsey smell) sent his brain whizzing away; her physical magnetism pulled him closer; the simple sound of her breathing filled his ears like water filled a glass; the feeling of her skin on his was making him go weak in ways he never knew was possible. She was intoxicating him, confusing him, pleasing him and hypnotizing him all at once.

The song ended with a captivating last few chords that drifted away into silence. Couples laughed and smiled when it was officially over and replaced by a more upbeat song. Temari withdrew herself from Shikamaru's arms and stared at him with carefulness in her eyes.

"Um," she said. She looked as confused as he felt.

He beckoned her off the dance floor with a smile.

"Unless you still want to dance," he offered, "Or do you want something to drink?"

Temari's eyes lit up at the last comment.

"A drink sounds nice," she sighed happily, and Shikamaru nodded briefly as he turned around and disappeared through the crowd to find a waitress. He noted one lurking by the doorway earlier… and found the same one there. Retrieving two drinks from her tray, he made his way back through the mess of bodies to the place where Temari was standing —

— only to find that she had surreptitiously disappeared.

Disappointed but determined, Shikamaru scanned the area around him, soon enough finding her strung out in the middle of the dance floor with Ino and Tenten. They jammed enthusiastically to the music; Temari was being as flamboyant and confident as he'd ever seen her. She was laughing and smiling and even singing along with some of the words.

Temari was usually the tough girl, the rough girl, the one that was on top of every situation with dominating ease. But tonight, she looked inexplicably feminine, with her dress moving as she did, her hair flipping around in every direction, and her eyes squinted into a smile that he'd never seen her wear. She was having fun.

He leaned against the wall, drinks still in his hands, and watched Temari for about twenty minutes. The ice was melting in both the cups and condensation was slipping down his fingers, but it all mattered so little to him.

Song after song thrilled the girls, and soon enough more joined them. The sandy-haired boy Ino had been with before was not far off (still eyeing Ino with great interest) and was standing with another who watched Tenten with mild relevance… Naruto and Lee had taken up doing some sort of funky dancing beside the girls (whom Sakura now joined), causing them all to grin with mirth.

Shikamaru could have watched her all night, but after a good half hour of dancing with her newfound friends, Temari excused herself and made her way towards Shikamaru; her cheeks looked pink and she was breathing slightly heavy.

"Oh," she laughed when she saw him. "Sorry, I just got caught up… I didn't mean to be _troublesome _— " she added teasingly.

"Don't worry about it," replied Shikamaru easily. "The drinks are the real trouble. You waited so long the ice melted."

"Ha ha," Temari chuckled, "Well I've officially gotten to know the village… the girls, anyway. Ino's really… she's nice. And Tenten's fun, too." Temari gave a slight smile that did not reveal her teeth. "I'm not used to being like this," she confessed softly. "It's kind of different."

"What, not used to being friendly?" he badgered, but then nodded understandingly under her gaze. It must be scary, in a way, for Temari to make friends so quickly. She had lived in such a world of isolation for most of her life; he could only imagine the mixed emotion caught within her.

He held up the drinks cautiously, and asked, "Do you want me to get you another?"

"It's fine," she answered absent-mindedly, taking the small glass and downing it in three gulps. Apparently still thirsty, she seized Shikamaru's glass too. "God, is it just me or is it kinda hot in here?"

"Just you," he replied.

Temari stared at him.

"I mean," he clarified, rolling his eyes, "It's just _you_ that thinks it's hot in _here_."

She laughed. It was more music than he'd heard all night.

* * *

The evening wore on relentlessly, with Temari being pulled back out on the dance floor several more times by Ino, Tenten and Sakura. They eventually got Shikamaru out there too, but after a few minutes of proclaiming dancing far too troublesome, he managed to sneak away anyways.

It was well past midnight when people finally started to leave, including Temari and Shikamaru. They thanked Ino profusely, and after Temari had said goodbye to all her new friends she and Shikamaru set off down the path to her house.

"Wow," she breathed, the cool night air gracing her exposed cheeks in a friendly way. "That was more fun than I expected it to be."

"Troublesome," nodded Shikamaru, "You guys were all trying to get me to dance out there."

"You _should_ have! It was a good time."

"Only girls seriously dance," he scoffed. "No guy would risk his masculinity."

"Well seeing as you have nothing to risk, why didn't you get out there?"

"Troublesome woman," was his only comeback.

"You danced with _me_," she pressed, "Did _that_ risk your masculinity?"

Shikamaru looked away with annoyance. "That was different."

Laughter fumbled in Temari's mouth. They turned a corner and she could see her house in the distance… about half a football field length away. Through the windows of the houses they passed lights were on, lighting up the dark, shadowy streets of Konoha just barely enough to cast a modest glow upon each of their faces.

They walked slowly, taking gradual steps. Temari felt Shikamaru's arm bump gently against hers twice, and then he took her fingers and laced them with his own in a fluid motion.

They carried on in silence towards the house. Temari noticed that Shikamaru wasn't looking at her; he was looking away, as though embarrassed or afraid of her refutation. She smirked to herself. The other side of Shikamaru just kept popping up everywhere, lately.

As they approached the house, Temari gave his fingers a mellow squeeze and then extracted her hand from his, turning to face him.

She put her hands on her hips. "Night," she said affably, and with a grin.

Shikamaru's expression became just as genial as hers. "Goodnight," he replied, nodding to her once, and then leaning forward to place a kiss softly on her mouth. It sent shivers traveling agreeably down her spine, but ended too soon with him pulling away.

"Night, Shikamaru," she said. She was still getting used to saying his first name. It tasted nice on her lips.

With another simple smile he turned and slouched away into the night. She turned away to face her door and open it, but once she had, Temari took a glance back at Shikamaru.

He was at the end of the street, head turned just so over his shoulder and trying to get a last glimpse of her, too.

He waved, and she smiled.


	13. Chap XII: The Clouds

**Chapter XII: The Clouds**

"Hate is a disguised form of love. You can only hate someone that you have the capacity to love because if you are really indifferent, you cannot even get up enough energy to hate [him]."

– Siri Chinmoy.

* * *

"You lazy bastard. You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

"I'm sorry," he replied dispassionately.

Temari rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Watching clouds is so freaking boring alone."

"As opposed to them being amusing when I'm here?"

"No," she responded tersely. "They're still boring. Obviously."

Shikamaru sat back on the dry grass next to her. Temari had come to his door this morning declaring that he was to meet her at the field in a half hour so that they could cloud watch together. He would never truly know what possessed her to do the very act she criticized him for so often, but nonetheless…

"So what do you want to talk about?" he asked, settling himself on his back beside her. She glanced sideways at him, almost looking angry.

_God_, he thought. _She's so confusing._

The clouds seemed to watch and wait as Temari frowned at him. It was a forced frown, the kind that she wore when she was fighting back a very powerful stream of emotion… good or bad, Shikamaru was afraid to find out.

"I just wanted to tell you," she said slowly. "That you passed the test yesterday night."

"Victory," he replied unenthusiastically. She glared at him.

"You should be happy," she said. "You failed the first one."

He ignored this statement. "Should I expect tests from you from now on? Or will some be more like quizzes?"

"Oh, shut up." She shot him a twisted grin. One of her scarier sort. The kind he was beginning to adore.

"With pleasure," he agreed, and they fell silent.

Another half hour went by before they spoke to each other again. During that time it was simply cloud watching; clouds coasted past with reverence to Shikamaru and Temari as they lay on the grass and stared up at them. Some sped on ahead quickly, while others shaped themselves into pictures in the sky for their own amusement.

Shikamaru saw four ponytails and a sand ninja in every one.

* * *

Temari had boyfriends before, back in Suna. The relationships never lasted long; a maximum of a few weeks after which she realized he was either too stupid or not dedicated enough.

She'd come in contact with plenty of boys who wanted her for fun; she'd had a couple one-nighters; she'd broke a few hearts. She never stuck around long, and the boys didn't seem to mind either; just the fact that they'd gotten a taste of Temari seemed to be enough.

Of all of the boys she'd ever dated, none was like Shikamaru, however. None of them had an IQ like his, none of them had an attitude like his, and none of them had habits like his. None of them could make her want to kiss them so terribly while simultaneously aggravating her so bad her brain throbbed. None of them had his wretched charm, his snappish wit or his annoying drawl. None of them proclaimed her troublesome and then gave her a smile that melted a little part of her heart. None of them had this power that Shikamaru had, and part of her secretly despised him for this striking difference that set him apart.

But she had to admit. He was the most exciting so far.

Temari rolled over onto her stomach, away from the clouds, and promptly began pulling out grass by the blade.

"I'm bored," she reminded him.

"That's nice," he replied unsympathetically. Shikamaru was about two feet away from her, eyes closed and breathing even, as though on the verge of slumber. For a moment or two as she watched him breathing, thoughts of surprising him with kisses or physical contact crawled its way into her brain. It whined for attention.

"You're an asshole," she declared.

He opened one eye and grinned at her. "Oh. So that's all I am now?"

Temari army crawled closer to him on her elbows. She crawled so close that she was right next to him, her head overlapping his, casting a shadow across his bored (and slightly smug) face.

"You're more than just an asshole," she said, "You're a lazy bastard too. And a terrible boyfriend."

"Mmmm," he replied, closing his eyes again. Temari fought back an angry retort. He was so indifferent to her. It drove her insane. So insane that she couldn't even enjoy these peaceful moments with him, in which she was sure _normal_ couples cuddled and talked of romantic things.

But they weren't exactly the _normal_ couple, were they?

She snapped another single strand of grass in half and traced his face with the tip of it. Shikamaru stayed completely motionless (eyes still shut) as she outlined his eyes, eyebrows, and nose. She traced his lips, and then moved down his jaw to his neck, reaching his collar bone and stopping, only to drop the piece of grass back on the ground. A sigh fell from her mouth.

Shikamaru opened both his eyes and blinked. "You're blocking my sun," he mentioned.

She sighed again. "Like I said… You're a terrible boyfriend."

Shikamaru shrugged. "I've never done this troublesome boyfriend thing before," he prompted imperturbably. "Sorry."

Temari wrinkled her nose as she watched his eyes blink slowly again. Her face reflected as a watery image inside the dark brown of his irises.

"That's right, I'm your first girlfriend, ha ha. I can't believe your mom told me that." Temari shot him a condescending grin.

Groaning, Shikamaru closed his eyes again, looking as though he was wrestling with some powerful internal struggle. "That was the stupidest thing she's ever said," he decided.

"I'm probably not helping much," Temari allowed, "Being so troublesome and all."

Shikamaru shrugged. "It's not so bad." He opened his eyes again and looked up at her. His face changed, in the instant that his eyes finally met hers. From relaxed and tired to genuinely pleased. "I like you this way. Life is a lot less boring when I'm with you."

An involuntary smile matured on her lips.

"Coming from you, that's like 'I love you.'" She laughed. Shikamaru gave half a chuckled, extracting his arm from behind his head and instead reaching up to touch one of the lower of her four ponytails. His hand went through it. Once. Twice. And then settled on the back of her neck.

They made eye contact. Temari found that she liked Shikamaru's eyes more and more with each time she looked at them, especially lately. They were incisive, but not in an overbearing way. Slender and pointed at each end. Half closed was the way they normally were, and the way they were now.

His eyes scanned hers like he was searching for something, giving her the uncomfortable feeling of being X-rayed.

"What?" she asked nervously.

Instead of replying, Shikamaru propped himself up on his opposite elbow, simultaneously pulling Temari forward so that their lips touched.

It always surprised her when he had these random bursts of enough courage to kiss her. She never pegged Shikamaru as the kind of boy who would try and kiss her (of all people!) but he had done it three times since she had first planted one on his mouth. The way he kissed her now revealed so much that she almost drew back in shock — but it was there, written plainly on his lips.

Shikamaru was actually beginning to like her. And like this. Them. Together. All of it.

She felt slightly (and begrudgingly) elated by this fact, so much that her response to kissing him accidentally forced him to slip on his elbow and knock his head back on the ground, his lips suctioning away from her with a gasp of air.

"Ow," he muttered.

"Serves you right for doing that without asking," she said defiantly, her lips still tingling slightly. Shikamaru's hand was still resting lazily against her neck, and with her words he began to become conscious of it. He stroked the skin at the base of her neck nonchalantly with his thumb as his other hand massaged the back of his own head.

She had expected him to demand why he ever needed to ask, or to explain how he obviously _knew_ she liked it (privately she dreaded the day he saw through her exterior entirely) but instead, he said neither of these things.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away. Temari was startled. Instead of replying, she removed his arm from around her and lay onto the grass beside him, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear and nestling into a comfortable cloud-watching position, at a loss for what to say.

"I know you don't really like me like that and everything," he said quietly after a few moments of her not responding.

"Is that what you think?" she asked. "That I don't like you?"

"Well, yeah," he said, apparently astounded at her question, as though it was obvious that she harbored a heavy hate for him.

Temari laughed. It echoed into the sky.

"For a genius, you're pretty stupid," she mused. She could feel Shikamaru's eyes on her face, trying to decode her expression, but Temari still refused to look at him.

The makings of a question formed on his lips: "Are you saying — "

"Shikamaru," she interrupted, "just shut up and watch the clouds, will you?"

He eyed her for a moment, his brows narrowed in thick concentration, trying to discover something hidden beneath her silver smile. She would let nothing show though, and a second later his eyes had flickered back to the clouds, back to his muse… but she was fully aware that his attention still lingered on her and only her.

"I mean," he said slowly, seemingly afraid she would cut across him again, "sometimes it seems like you do but then…" He paused and the air was silent. "I just don't know."

His voice trailed off into nothing, fading, blending with the breeze. Temari rolled over to face her smile away from him, admiring the tiny blades of grass and the greenness of the trees and the bright blue of the Konoha skies like she had never seen them properly before.

* * *

_Okay, another filler sort of. I'm trying to illustrate more romantic moments with them, but it's much easier for me to write them when they're awkward and spiteful around each other. I'm working on it. :) Next chapter will hold more character revelation. Oh, and look out for another Shika/Tema I'm posting soon. It's not a big deal (only a few short chapters) but I personally like it. It will be called "Seven" and I'll probably put it up within the next week. Thanks!_


	14. Chap XIII: The Rain

**Chapter XIII: The Rain**

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

* * *

The clouds in Suna were never like this, Shikamaru assumed. It fit: The desert wouldn't have as beautiful a sky as the green country land that made up Konoha.

"Why do they get all puffy like that, around the top?" Temari asked. Shikamaru shrugged in response. He knew the answer, somewhere, deep down in the corners of his mind. Shikamaru knew most things about clouds, but to extract that knowledge was a different story. Simply speaking, he was just too lazy. Temari could live without the information, right?

"Don't give me that. I _know_ you know."

Apparently not.

"They get that way when rain is coming," he said shortly. All he wanted to do was continue to watch said clouds, but Temari grasped for more. She crawled army-style towards him through the grass, which was taller than normal; the Nara's never mowed in this area of the pasture.

They were lying just on the edge of the forest where the Nara family looked after the deer; the house was not far away, but it was not altogether close, either. Some deer lay out under the disappearing sun with them, but all a good distance away, discomfited with the appearance of an unfamiliar person. Temari didn't seem to mind the gap; she was the first person to come to the forest and not cry, "Oh, please can I pet them?" and then scare them away with the loud footsteps and shrieks that only came with being human. No one but the Nara's truly understood the delicacy of such an animal as a deer anyway, and Shikamaru was forever careful of who he brought over.

Temari, however, didn't seem to want to get close to them just yet; it was as though she needed to know she could trust them before she zeroed in. He related the situation with how she acted around him and how she had been extremely cautious getting emotionally close to him… despite the fact that both he and the deer were basically harmless. Basically.

But that was Temari, always on her guard. So instead of trying to corner a dear so his guest could pet them against its will, they sat at the very edge of the pasture, doing what Shikamaru liked to do best: Cloud watch. They had been sitting out in the pasture and on Shikamaru's favorite grassy hill often the past few days since Ino's party, just laying there, observing the sky and talking. Privately, Shikamaru liked talking to her. She was the only friend he had that could keep up with his brain. Sometimes he thought that Temari was getting bored with it, but he figured if she didn't want to do it anymore she'd say something. She was that kind of person, after all.

Her elbows dug into the dirt and grass as she edged toward him. When she was right over him she spoke again.

"We don't get rain in Suna. I mean, we get a sprinkle or two one month a year, but…" She shrugged and said no more on it.

"Mmmm," he replied, closing his eyes. He really was quite sleepy. "That's nice."

He heard a scoff from her general direction. "You're boring."

"You tell me that a lot."

"What else am I supposed to tell you, that you're _excit_ing?"

"You're blocking my light again."

Another scoff. This one had more skepticism. It was kind of snort-like.

"It's the clouds, idiot. Look, they've gone over the sun."

Shikamaru didn't bother to look at the sky; instead he turned to focus on Temari, who pointed with her index finger at the cloud slipping over the sun like a blanket over a child being tucked into bed. They sky was growing slowly darker, deeper, a silver-grey that Shikamaru liked despite the increasing cold.

"What I _don't _get," Temari said, looking away, "is why the storm's happening right in the middle of summer."

"It's not right in the middle of summer," corrected Shikamaru irritably, "It's spring. It's a spring shower."

Defeated, Temari clicked her tongue in distaste as she stared at the sky.

"Well, it's too cold," she complained. "This weather's ridiculous. How do you deal with it?"

"I just do. I live here, after all." Shikamaru shrugged. "And you're staying here, so you might as well get used to it."

"I'm staying here right _now_," Temari corrected, rolling back over onto the grass. "But I don't live here, so I don't have to get used to _anything_."

Rolling over her words in his mind, Shikamaru closed his eyes again as the cool pre-storm wind tickled his face. Her stay here was only temporary. It wasn't like she was going to remain here for the rest of her life — that much was obvious. He thought of Ino suddenly, who was obviously trying to pair he and Temari up and make them "fall in love," whatever the hell that meant. If she knew that Temari would be gone so soon, then why would she implant such a scheme? Of course, Shikamaru answered himself. It was because Ino liked romances, especially the dramatic, separate village, Romeo-and-Juliet kind. And she was crazy.

Glancing over at Temari (who gave him her usual "What are you looking at?" in response), Shikamaru convinced himself that, while Ino hadn't thought ahead enough to notice that Temari was leaving soon, he had been aware of it from the beginning. She only had about a week left in Konoha, give or take a few days. Yet still, Ino had implemented this stupid relationship between them — a relationship that Shikamaru had started, regrettably, to depend on.

A long time ago, around the time most boys his age began to notice girls, Shikamaru had taken upon a task: Analyzing the attraction that compelled young males to suddenly _like _young females. Thanks to courses in school and several talks with his father, he assumed that all this was merely sexual attraction; boys went through puberty and then suddenly, girls were just always on their mind. It was the basic pattern of a pubescent boy's mind. To have control over one's sexual desires would in turn let you have control of annoying, cluttering affections for girls. For this reason, Shikamaru hadn't ever had a girlfriend. Until now.

He had already determined that he liked Temari well enough — friendship wise — and whenever he was around her, he did feel some sort of desire to hold her or touch her or kiss her. But that part was the annoying puberty part of it, which he repressed at all costs. And if his attraction to her was purely sexual, then why did the thought of Temari leaving and going back to Suna for an indefinite amount of time _upset _him? Why did that thought make him _hurt_?

"Ack!" Temari suddenly jumped to her feet and whipped her fan out, using it to cover her head. The deer, which had come to rest peacefully in the grass around, them leapt up and scampered away, frightened. For a moment, Shikamaru was baffled as to why Temari did this, but then rain began to pepper his face and arms, and realized that the sky must have finally decided to open up and pour down on them.

He raised his eyebrows at her as the rain became gradually heavier. "What are you doing?"

Staring at him from under the protective shield that was her fan, Temari spat, "I do _not _like getting wet."

"It's just water."

Temari looked furious. As she rolled her eyes angrily toward the stormy sky he thought he heard her mutter, "_Just _water… idiot…"

Cocking his eyebrows again, Shikamaru sat up from the grass, which was now very damp beneath him. Clouds of lackluster pewter-grey completely covered the once-blue sky, and rain had begun to fall harder now. Temari seemed to shrink a few sizes under her fan, and, with unexpected sympathy, Shikamaru realized suddenly how _vulnerable _she looked.

It was so unusual that he sat there for a few moments, just watching her pull her limbs tighter to her body, as though afraid that if any area of her skin was exposed it would be burned off.

"Hey," he said, coming to his senses and standing up. He was now nearly completely wet; raindrops stuck to his eyelashes, causing his vision to shimmer and blur. He was vaguely aware that he was cold, but it scarcely mattered to him: At the moment, the only thing that seemed remotely important was Temari.

He held his hands out, palm up, catching the raindrops. "Are you scared of it?"

Appalled, Temari insisted, "Absolutely _not!_ I just really don't like it! It's… weird. And wet." She shivered. "And cold. I don't like weird, wet, cold things."

"Evidently."

Shikamaru took a step toward her. He could feel his ponytail sticking to the back of his head, dripping wet down his neck. The rain poured down around them; in a grey haze he moved closer, reaching out to the fan Temari used as a safety net. As expected, she jerked it away, taking a step back, but Shikamaru continued to advance, trying to not be threatening (though he was now thoroughly soaked).

"Stop moving," he said impatiently, and to his great surprise she stopped, looking up at him, frightened. But as quickly as the fear had flashed across her face, it was gone — just like that, replaced with immediate vexation. "It's only rain. Come on."

"It's not — " Angrily, her voice trembled; she fought to keep control of it. "I just don't want to get wet. Can we go back inside?"

"It's okay," Shikamaru said, trying to be soothing. "I know it's weird and wet and cold but come on. It's just water."

"I don't like it," Temari snapped. Shikamaru sighed.

He knew by now that Temari didn't like anything that was different, or out of place, or strange; she was very opposed to change. Yet she could handle odd, unfamiliar things as long as she could control them. And Shikamaru realized just then that she didn't like the water and the rain because she couldn't control it, and regardless of how wet she got, the fact still remained that it was a force that she was regrettably submissive to.

"Now," she carried on curtly, "if you _don't _mind, I'm going to go back inside where it's dry and warm." And with that she stomped towards the house, gigantic fan still perched ridiculously over her head, leaving Shikamaru standing in the rain, quite alone.

His eyes followed her, but eventually she disappeared into the foggy, rain-cluttered air surrounding him. The house was a few pinpricks of golden light in the distance (the windows shining through the haze, no doubt), and by now he was sure Temari had reached it and was sitting down, safe and dry. Yoshino was home, and he would have been surprised if Temari hadn't already been given a towel and served tea.

Shikamaru couldn't honestly say that he didn't expect Temari to march away, but the action still hit him somewhere in the gut, more with disappointment than with shock. He'd gotten so used to the idea that she would trust him (though this was more a figment of his hopeful imagination than a logical conclusion) that he suddenly realized he had no clue how to _make _her trust him.

Plopping himself down on the wet ground, Shikamaru let the rain fall continuously around him, the soft pitter-pattering a consistent, calming background noise to his thoughts. She was leaving in a week, which meant he had a week to make her trust him completely. A week to open her up. She had involuntarily let him see some small parts of her that no one else had, but that was all accidental. Could he really believe that what they'd been through so far would persuade her to relax around him?

But what _had _they been through, really? Just Ino's wild scheming, a few haphazard dates, and some awkward kisses. That was hardly enough to make her stay.

No! No, he must not think about making her stay. That was ridiculous, and he knew it. Temari wouldn't abandon her village for anything. Even if she fell in love with him. Shikamaru shook his head bitterly, causing his sopping ponytail to flop in the rain. She wouldn't fall in love with him, though. She just wouldn't. Regardless of the fact that he, Shikamaru, had already fallen for her.

That was the only sensible answer to why he felt so terrible about her leaving the village. It had only been about a month since she was here — a month to get to know the village a little, and then home to Suna, where she'd report it. Future duties as the liaison would bring her back, of course, but Shikamaru didn't feel like he could wait that long. He wanted Temari around as much as possible, so much it was like a hunger growing deep inside him, a need to be with her.

And there was no other possible conclusion for these feelings that he could come to other than the fact that Ino's stupid plan was working perfectly. And just like Temari hated the fact that she was submissive to the rain, Shikamaru hated the fact that he was submissive to this strange, otherworldly attraction he felt for _her_.

* * *

_Extra-special high five goes out to InuYashaAndNarutoluver for being the 100th reviewer. :D  
_


	15. Chap XIV: The Mistake

**Chapter XIV: The Mistake**

"Man blames fate for other accidents, but feels personally responsible when he makes a hole in one."

– Anonymous

* * *

Shikamaru sat for what might have been an hour or two in the rain. Time did tricky things when he was outside — sometimes it sped up, and sometimes it slowed down. Now, Shikamaru had no idea what it was doing. It seemed to be jumping around, and one moment he thought it was late, when the next he deduced that hardly any time had passed at all.

Finally, after what seemed to have been forever, Shikamaru stood up and stretched his arms, ignoring his clothes sticking to his body and his shoes making squelching noises in the muddy grass. He stood there for another moment, letting the rain drip down his cheeks and arms and chest, letting it wash away whatever needed to be washed away, before he turned toward the direction of home. Where Temari was sitting inside, safe, dry, and warm.

He knew she'd still be there. It wasn't like she would leave — it was still raining after all. And Temari wouldn't want to be seen going down the street hiding underneath her fan. That wasn't who she was. She hated being submissive. Especially when other people saw. Letting all of Konoha see the Sand Ambassador submissive to some force, however uncontrollable, was just not Temari's style.

Sighing, Shikamaru trooped forward through the downpour, forcing himself on. Facing Temari with what he was going to say next seemed hard to do, somehow, even though it made perfect sense to tell her how he felt — but this, like many other troublesome things in his life, loomed ominously, practically spelling out the warning that it would have to come sooner or later. Shikamaru couldn't even begin to contemplate how much of a bother all this falling in love business was; all he knew that he was in before he knew quite how to get out, and now the feelings had him pushed up against a wall. It gave him only two options, really: Either confess and risk everything or keep it in and risk even more.

The house was closer than he thought; within no time he stood just before his back porch, staring at the doors, savoring the sweet rain for just a few moments. There was no going back now — if he went inside and saw Temari sitting there, he'd have to tell her. He would just have to.

Slowly, as though he was walking towards something very unpleasant, Shikamaru dragged himself up the porch steps and to the back door, opening it and slumping through the kitchen. His mother stood behind the countertop, mixing something in a bowl that he didn't really care about.

"I hope you're going to go change out of those wet clothes," she nodded briskly to him, her eyes narrowing as water crawled down his clothing in little droplets, infecting her shining kitchen floor.

"Yes Mom," he lied.

When he got to the door to the living room, Shikamaru quickened his pace slightly, pushing it open. As he expected, Temari sat there on the shabby forest-colored couch, a cup of tea in her hand, gazing vaguely at her knees until his entrance provoked her to look up.

"Hey," she said, surprised.

"Hey."

They stood there for a few moments in an awkward silence, the only noise being Shikamaru's clothing dripping onto the floor.

"You're all wet," Temari stated obviously, eyeing his sodden clothing dispassionately. "Are you cold or what?"

"No, I — no," stumbled Shikamaru, sloshing around the small coffee table to the other side of the couch. He didn't sit down (subconsciously, he realized his mom would kill him if he did and decided against it), but instead he stood before Temari, gaze flitting quickly over her relaxed posture, her crossed legs, her soft, yellow-blonde hair gleaming in the faint glow of the light hanging from the ceiling.

Everything seemed to boil down to this moment. Whatever he said next, Temari would remember him by. His choice of words determined the outcome, he knew that — if he was careless, things would go terribly, terribly wrong, and she'd remember him as that idiot she once called her boyfriend. He would just be a mistake in the past. A blunder. A blur of mild incoherence, one she tried to block out. And he realized suddenly how very much he wanted that to _not _happen.

He must have looked ridiculous standing there, dripping on the carpet, his hands shoved deep inside his soaking wet pockets. He opened his mouth several times, trying to find the right words — why hadn't he planned this out before? Usually he was good at strategies, even on the spot, but somehow this required more than just strategy. And whatever this called for, he conspicuously lacked.

"Um — "

"Are you — "

Both parties silenced immediately. Shikamaru stared at her half-open mouth, wondering if, instead of saying anything, simply kissing her senseless would get his point across. He decided almost immediately against it.

"You first," he mumbled. Temari shook her head.

"I was just going to ask if you were okay. You've been standing there staring at me for a while. And you're making a bit of a mess." She pointed to the puddle at his feet. "So, _are_ you okay?" She eyed him uncertainly, and Shikamaru suddenly noticed how inexplicably _pretty _she was, even with her face twisted in hesitant confusion. Consequently, his mouth ran dry.

"Uh," he began stupidly, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted…" Clearing his throat, Shikamaru forced himself to push through. "…to tell you something. I mean, I have something to tell you." He coughed awkwardly, anger twitching inside him — _stupid, ridiculous, troublesome feelings_.

Temari looked, if possible, even more surprised. And confused. "What is it?"

Shikamaru took a huge breath, trying disastrously to steady himself. "I — Temari, I — "

"SHIKAMARU, I SURE HOPE YOU'RE NOT DRIPPING ALL OVER MY NICE CLEAN CARPETS," thundered his mother from the kitchen, abruptly breaking the moment. Temari looked around, just as startled as he was. They blinked in the silence for a few moments before Temari turned back to him.

"She's right, you should go change." Giving him a small smile when he didn't move, she added, "_Before _she kills you, Shikamaru."

Breathing heavy as though he had just run miles, Shikamaru nodded and turned around, walking quicker than usual to his room. Half of him was screaming inside, wanting to yell at his mother for ruining the one, small spurt of bravery her son had ever had (now he'd have to summon the courage all over again! What a pain), but at the same time, his other half sighed in relief. He felt ashamed of this side of him. It was the cowardly side.

Angry at himself for being so gutless, Shikamaru moved quickly into the bathroom, stripped his shirt off to let it dangle over the edge of the tub, grabbed a towel, and walked into his room, where he noticed a small mound of fresh laundry waiting for him on the foot of his bed. After ridding himself of the other sopping garments he wore, he tugged a dry set of clothing out from the pile and pulled them on, thinking cautiously to himself.

Now he'd have to go back out there to Temari, who was expecting him to say something — what exactly would he say, though? "Temari, I'm in love with you" seemed a bit much for right now, but "Temari, I like you a lot" seemed just _stupid_. He stayed in his room for several minutes after he was fully dressed, listening to the rain pitter-patter on his window, trying to think of a clever way (or at least remotely sensible way) to tell Temari every thought bursting in his brain. How was it possible that he could think up incredible strategies in seconds, but now, when he was faced with what very well may be the most stressful situation of his life, his talent for finding ways to win lost battles epically failed him? How was that even _fair_? Bitterly, Shikamaru gathered up his wet clothing and carried them to the bathroom, still mulling over what he could possibly, _possibly _say to Temari now.

With the hope that something might just come to him spontaneously, Shikamaru trudged back down the hallway and into the living room, brooding silently, only to find that Temari had conspicuously disappeared. He sat staring at where she was on the couch, dumbfounded; her fan still leaned casually against the wall, so she couldn't have gone very far, but then, where in the world _could _she have gone? It wasn't like his house was exactly monumental, or interesting, or someplace fun to explore.

Shikamaru carried along into the kitchen, stuffing his hands into his pockets absentmindedly. His mother looked around when he walked in, now dumping dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and nodded at the back door.

"She's outside," she said, and privately Shikamaru thanked, for what may be the only time, the fact that his mother could read him. It had been the same way since he was a baby: Mom was practically the only one who instinctively knew what he wanted, even when he gave no clear evidence towards his desires. Perhaps it was a motherly thing; Shikamaru wouldn't ever know. But despite the fact that it sometimes got him in trouble, he was thankful for it then, and he followed her gaze to the back door.

Outside it was still drizzling. Shikamaru stepped out onto the porch only to see Temari leaning over the railing several feet away, her arms folded on the banister in front of her and her weight on one leg, so that the other could droop lazily, the foot curled behind the opposite ankle. She looked so relaxed and so picturesque as she stood there, just watching the rain come down, listening to the gentle thumping of it on the canopy that draped over the porch, that Shikamaru almost wanted to slip quietly back inside and not disturb her.

He might have, if Temari hadn't turned around at that specific moment and gazed at him, eyes half closed as if she was sleepy, and expression bored.

"Finally," she drawled, turning fully around to lean against the banister with her back. "You take _forever _to get dressed, you know? I was about to come in there and drag you out." She gave a short bark of laughter, and Shikamaru's stomach did a flip. He tried to push the thoughts of Temari barging into his room when he was only half clothed out of his mind.

"Sorry," he replied, wishing he had something better to say as he walked forward and pressed his palms to the wooden railing, staring out at the shower like Temari had been doing only moments before. Beside him, she resumed her previous position and they stood there, just watching the rain.

"I was going to go out there, you know," she said after a moment, "in the rain. You seem to really like it for some reason. I thought I'd give it a try, but" — she laughed shortly, her head tilting back with the sound — "I don't think your mom would take too lightly to _me _dragging water through the house if she gave _you _such a hard time."

"She's actually much nicer to guests. I'm sure you could get away with it."

"Nah," responded Temari softly. It wasn't a weak word, or a harsh word, it was just a respectful denial of Shikamaru's hidden offer.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, observing.

"So you're not _scared _of it," he mused, not missing the fact that her eyes flashed at the word, "but you still don't want to deal with it."

"Shut up," she said, slapping him roughly on the arm. "I'm just not used to it is all. You got to give me time with these things. They're so weird. Rain, I mean. Like I said, we don't have rain in Suna. It's… different."

Shikamaru nodded to show he knew what she meant. He had known this about Temari — her hesitance of the different, the unknown — since the very beginning, but now she was telling him straight out, and it was a mark of how she trusted him that she did.

Cautiously, hesitantly, Temari extended her arm. The tarp covering the porch hung roughly six inches past the banister, but Temari reached out past that, until her hand hovered in the rain. From her wrist all the way to the tips of her fingers, water splashed down, wetting her tan skin, dripping down her forearm and to the crook of her elbow. She twisted and turned over her hand, so that she was palm up sometimes and palm down sometimes, as though trying to do a good job of getting her hand completely wet. After a moment of watching her stare intently at the sparkling drops dribbling down her skin, Shikamaru realized that she was simply marveling at it, observing, scrutinizing, gathering details that could be useful later. The skill of a great strategist, but it was unneeded with this harmless natural occurrence.

"Water's so weird," she decided finally, retracting her hand and letting it swing off of the banister, now in the dry area. "It's so fluid and calm and peaceful sometimes, but then it's crazy and wild and does things you can't control. Like rain." She looked out over his massive yard, scrutinizing the watery haze before her.

"Yeah," mumbled Shikamaru, unsure of what to say next. Who was this soft, vulnerable Temari? She certainly never let herself show to him before. Whenever one of her gentler side showed through, she usually followed it up with hitting him. Just to re-implant the tough image in his mind. But now she simply existed there next to him, quiet and observant, peaceful and serene. He thought for a moment how the same way she described water was one of the many ways he described her, but he didn't trust himself to speak at that point, lest he ruined the moment; thankfully, he didn't have to.

"So," Temari said, clearing her throat. The rain thumped down around them, plopping steadily on the earth and the tarp. "What were you going to say to me earlier? In the living room."

"Oh," gasped Shikamaru. He had all but forgotten this — more like he hoped _Temari_ would forget. But she was much more perceptive than that. He knew somehow she'd manage to ask him about it. "I just…"

He looked up at Temari. Mistake number one.

She was watching him intently, eyes focused deeply on his, as though whatever he had to say was of the utmost importance. Teal stones, glinting at him, sharply, but not piercing. Simply watching him, like a hawk's eyes.

A lump rose uncomfortably in his throat. He felt weakened, suddenly, by this woman in front of him. Vulnerable, Shikamaru retreated from the confession he was about to say and instead spluttered out something far, far worse.

"Let's do something."

Temari blinked confusedly at him; all intensity vanished. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean," Shikamaru corrected quickly, already cursing himself silently, "you're leaving in a few days so I just thought we should… do something. Before you go."

Mentally, he was smacking himself. This was his way of asking her out on a date. His cheesy, retarded way. And the thought that he actually needed an excuse — _I mean, you're leaving in a few days_ — was even worse. Couldn't he just ask a girl out because he _liked _her? Something about having an excuse made him feel safer, like if she said no, he could just respond,_ Oh, well that's okay then. It was just to be nice. Since you're leaving and all._ More weakness. More cowardice.

In reply to his comment, Temari only stared at him, her mouth frowning, lips slightly parted, like she'd inaudibly gasped; her eyebrows tapered forward, and she was watching him intently again, searching his face for some sort of signal or sign that he didn't feel capable of giving at that moment. Rather, he felt ridiculously hot, despite the very cool, fresh wind on his cheeks and the rather crisp, chilly storm air around him. Was this what normally happened? Was the girl supposed to stare at you awkwardly? Were you supposed to feel stuffy and crowded in your own skin?

When Temari still didn't respond, he became nervous. "We could… go to dinner, or something," he spluttered, grasping at some sort of connection that would reach her, anything to stop her from scrutinizing him. "That place we went to on our first, um… date. I don't remember what it was called, but it had the paper lanterns?"

"Oh yeah," Temari said vaguely, still gazing at him. After a moment she seemed to come abruptly to her senses, and she shook her head slightly to clear herself, ponytails bobbing unassumingly. "Yeah. Yes. We could go there, if you really wanted to — the waitress was kind of checking you out last time."

She smirked at him, leaning sideways against the banister. Shikamaru felt his whole face relax now that she had stopped staring at him so strangely and they were back to normal conversation.

Well, as normal as it could get with the ridiculous nausea sweeping his stomach. But for all intents and purposes, it was normal.

"Cool," he said, putting his elbows upon the wood and staring at the rain, feeling suddenly elated and queasy all at the same time.

"Cool?" Temari snorted. "I knew you liked her. I saw it from the second you made those googly eyes at her."

"What?" Shikamaru remembered the waitress comment. "Oh — no, I didn't," he protested. "I didn't make _googly eyes_ at her."

"Don't lie. You were totally smitten with her. She practically gave you a lap-dance when she handed you the menu. And don't tell me you didn't enjoy those sappy looks she gave you."

Actually, Shikamaru quite loathed sappy looks. Which was why (he suddenly realized) he liked Temari so much. She never batted her eyelashes or gave him sloppy, slavish gazes. She could hold her own. And by just living and breathing she caught Shikamaru's undivided attention. She didn't need the coy glances or the cutesy acts.

"Right, you caught me. I totally fall for the girls who make me pay after they feed me."

"I'd make you pay," Temari grinned at him sideways. "But not in money."

Shikamaru raised his eyebrows at her, remaining cool on the surface, but underneath his relaxed exterior, his brain had gone into overdrive. "And how would you do that?"

Temari only grinned menacingly at him again, and despite the fact that it terrified him, he was oddly turned-on by the mysteriousness lingering in the corners of her eyes and mouth. A whooping feeling built somewhere behind his navel; something must have shown in his face because Temari was suddenly laughing and crowing, "I can't believe it — you're thinking _dirty_."

"No I'm not," he said stupidly.

Temari smirked. "Then what's with that dumb smile?"

"I'm not smiling, woman." But even as he said the words, he felt his cheeks tighten, and he tried to twist his face into some other expression, his attempts only making Temari laugh even harder.

"Come on, stupid, it's getting dark. Let's go inside." She was still laughing when she took his hand, and when she did Shikamaru felt the air grow somewhat still, as though the whole world was watching her thin fingers grasp his.

"Wait — so, dinner?"

Temari turned back around to face him, their hands still intertwined. Her arm extended out fully, pulling his along, for Shikamaru had frozen in mid-step, suddenly remembering his request.

"You mean at the paper-lantern place?"

"Yeah. Could we — could we go tomorrow night or something?"

"Eager to see the waitress, are you? Not tomorrow, I'm busy" — Shikamaru had to wonder what in the _world _she could be doing, or if this was possibly just one of those tricks girls used to seem not as interested as they really were — "how about the next night?"

"Night after next," he repeated. "Got it."

The corners of Temari's mouth tweaked up. "Did you really even need to ask?"

"Of course I had to ask," Shikamaru said seriously. "I had to make sure it was okay with you."

Temari smirked slightly, but it was a softer, more amorous sort of smirk. "Come on. I bet your mom has dinner ready."

"Right," Shikamaru breathed, and he followed her inside, letting her lead him with her small, supple hands.

At that moment, Shikamaru was relieved, to say the least; he hadn't had to express his feelings for Temari just yet (better to let them stew while he found the appropriate words), but he was successful in securing an opportunity to relay them to her: Over their date. She was scheduled to leave the day after, so it would be the perfect opportunity.

Then, all those things ran through Shikamaru's head, and he was thankful. Thankful he'd held back. Thankful he'd neglected to tell her. Thankful he'd been a coward. But it would only take him forty-eight hours to wish that he had summoned the courage earlier.

Then, maybe, everything wouldn't have gone down in flames.

* * *

_Dun dun duhhhhhn! Review!  
_


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